Crimson Snow
by njeha
Summary: Ever heard of Cinderella in the Supernatural World? Snow was as pure as her name; she was kind and forgiving with a big heart. All her life, she waited for Prince Charming to ride into Mystic Falls and rescue her from her stepmother and evil stepsisters. Then, one day, two brothers return to their hometown, changing the lives of Snow and her best friends... FULL SUMMARY INSIDE!
1. SUMMARY & CAST

**SUMMARY:**

**Ever heard of Cinderella in the Supernatural World?**

**Snow was as pure as her name; she was kind and forgiving with a big heart.**

**Problem? She was a total pushover and many people took advantage of her kindness.**

**Snow has been waiting her entire life for Prince Charming to ride into Mystic Falls, sweep her off her feet and rescue her from her horrible stepmother and evil stepsisters. Then, one day, two brothers return to their hometown, and with their arrival, they set Snow's future, her destiny and her dreams into motion, throwing her into a life of adventure, excitement, love, secrets, darkness, heartbreak, death and most of all, danger. However, Snow's life and the lives of her best friends aren't the only ones that are about to change.**

**"Saving people, hunting things, the family business." - That's the Winchester Family Motto, or well, it was when Mary Winchester was murdered by a demon 22 years ago.**

**One day, Sam Winchester receives a vision. A vision that takes the Winchesters to a supernatural hot-spot, a mysterious town with mysterious inhabitants. A town that will bring many secrets to light and forever change the Winchesters' lives...**

**Winchesters, meet Cinderella.**

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**CAST:**

**"**_**A Soul as Pure as Snow & a Heart like Gold. The Fairest of All. Unwavering in her Belief that Love is a Transcendent Force.**_**"**

**Emily DiDonato **_**as**_** Snow** **Silverstone**

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**"**_**The Righteous Man. Values the Safety of his Family. A Staunch Believer of Free Will.**_**"**

**Jensen Ackles **_**as**_** Dean** **Winchester**

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**"**_**Avid Fighter of an Apple Pie Life. Yet Sadly unable to Escape his Fate.**_**"**

**Jared Padalecki **_**as**_** Sam Winchester**

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**"**_**A Boy once Full of Love & Life. Punished for the Sins of his Mother, Changing his Personality into a Heartless & Sadistic Monster. Feared by All. Fervent in his Belief of Love being a Weakness.**_**"**

**Joseph Morgan **_**as**_** Niklaus** **Mikaelson**

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**"**_**The Girl Next Door. Compassionate yet Flawed.**_**"**

**Nina Dobrev **_**as**_** Elena Gilbert**

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**"**_**Strong & Full of Light. Appreciates Life. The Quintessential Friend.**_**"**

**Candice King **_**as**_** Caroline Forbes**

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**"**_**Fire. Passion. Loyalty. ...The Self-Appointed Sacrificial Lamb.**_**"**

**Kat Graham **_**as**_** Bonnie Bennett**

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**"**_**Self-Destructive with a Devious & Sadistic Mind. Protective. Obsessive. When he Loves, he Loves Fiercely."**_

**Ian Somerhalder **_**as**_** Damon Salvatore**

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**"**_**The Golden Boy; The Classic Hero; The Good Samaritan. Cursed with an Addiction that destroys all the Goodness in him.**_**"**

**Paul Wesley **_**as**_** Stefan Salvatore**

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**"**_**Hedonistic with a Silver Tongue. Deep Down however, Loyal to the Core.**_**"**

**Sebastian Roché **_**as**_** Balthazar**

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**"**_**A once Devout Acolyte who Struggles with Faith in his Father.**_**"**

**Misha Collins **_**as**_** Castiel**

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"_**Overshadowed by his Sister. Deeply Affected by Loss. Forced to Mature quickly. Loyal to the Very End.**_**"**

**Steven McQueen **_**as**_** Jeremy Gilbert**

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**"**_**The Wily Troublemaker. Menacing; Unpredictable; Dangerous: A Desperate Cry for Attention from an Affection-Starved Boy.**_**"**

**Nathaniel Buzolic **_**as**_** Kol Mikaelson**

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**"**_**Eternal Dreamer. Risk Taker. In Love with the Idea of Love. A Girl who Loves Blindly & Recklessly.**_**"**

**Claire Holt **_**as**_** Rebekah Mikaelson**

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**"**_**The Noble Brother. The Honorable One. ...A Mask to Hide his Many Sins.**_**"**

**Daniel Gillies **_**as**_** Elijah Mikaelson**

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**"**_**The Better Evil & a Survivor at Heart. Suave; Cunning; Ambitious.**_**"**

**Mark Sheppard **_**as**_** Crowley**

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**"**_**Typical Bad Boy. But when given a Reason: So Damn Good. Intense. A Protective Streak that knows No Bound.**_**"**

**Wilson Bethel **_**as**_** Logan Fell**

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**"**_**Torn apart by Grief. Mended by Vengeance. Became Stronger for his Sons.**_**"**

**Jeffrey Dean Morgan **_**as**_** John Winchester**

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**"**_**The Trickster with a Sweet-Tooth. The Youngest Archangel who Embraced Humanity & Craved Peace.**_**"**

**Richard Speight Jr. **_**as**_** Gabriel**

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**"**_**Devil. Satan. Fallen Archangel. Rebel. Prone to Temper Tantrums... A Daddy's Boy with Abandonment Issues.**_**"**

**Michael Pellegrino **_**as**_** Lucifer**

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**"**_**First-Rate Asshole. Questionable Methods. He Means Well... All in the Name of Protecting his Family.**_**"**

**David Anders **_**as**_** John** **Gilbert**

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**"**_**Caring & Naive. Fun-Loving & Spirited. Strong-Willed. Well-Adapted: Forced to go from Irresponsible Party Girl to a Parent.**_**"**

**Sara Canning **_**as**_** Jenna Sommers**

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"_**A Devoted & Loyal Partner. Tenacious & Resilient. Truth-Searcher, Vampire-Hunter, Day-Drinker. A Human in a Supernatural World.**_**"**

**Matt Davis **_**as**_** Alaric Saltzman**

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"_**The Epitome of a Fairy Godmother. Naïve but Fierce. Pretentious but Wise. Polite, Refined; a High-Class Lady. The Definition of a Protective Mama Bear.**_**"**

**Susan Walters **_**as**_** Carol Lockwood**

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"_**A Man Controlled by an Inborn Gene. Prone to Bouts of Bad Temper & Aggression. A Control Freak. A Bully. Violent. Yet, Beneath it all, A Man who Loves Fiercely and Profoundly. A Good, Imperfect Man.**_**"**

**Rob Pralgo **_**as**_** Richard Lockwood**

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**"**_**Believer of Tough Love. Disappointed with All His Children & Believing His Interference Hindered Them, He no longer took an Active Role.**_**"**

**Rob Benedict **_**as**_** God**

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**A/N:**

**So to old readers, Hello! To new readers, welcome!**

**A few points I'd like to make before you start the first chapter:**

**(1) I already have the first fifteen chapters written out and the sixteenth is in progress. The first five to eight chapters might seem slightly cannon-ish, I am sorry for that, I deviated but the actual deviation happens by chapter 9, so please be patient and don't write this story off.**

**(2) Supernatural Universe won't kick off until after chapter 10, so again be patient.**

**(3) At the end of each chapter, there will be a list of quotes. ****Please**** read them. I would rather you not skip them. Some are just copied from canon, but most are not. I won't be writing every single event that happens, so I'd write the important ones to the story's future there. But more importantly, I've many plot-twists in store and cliffhangers planned – there will be quotes that lend foresight into what shall be happening later on, and also quotes the characters outside of the events from canon. ****WARNING:**** DO NOT SKIP THEM! Otherwise, you **_**will**_** be confused as the story progresses.**

**(4) With the introduction of new characters, I will insert their celebrity-face at the bottom, so keep an eye out for them.**

**(5) Please, give me a lot of gifts in the form of reviews! I would really like to read what you think about each and every chapter, especially once the surprises start coming and the extra juicy surprises I have in store in the Quotes Section.**

**All I can say now is: ENJOY!**

**I certainly did while writing this.**


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:**** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters, ideas and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

_**CHAPTER 1:**_

**CINDERELLA'S PILOT**

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**Grief (**_**verb**_**): intense sorrow, especially caused by someone's death**

"_**The reality is that you will grieve forever. You will not 'get over' the loss of a loved one; you will learn to live with it. You will heal and you will rebuild yourself around the loss you have suffered. You will be whole again but, you will never be the same. Nor should you be the same, nor would you want to.**_**"**

"_**Between grief and nothing… I'll take grief.**_**"**

"_**Grief is the last act of love we have to give to those we loved. Where there is deep grief, there was great love.**_**"**

"_**If someone said three years from now you'd be long gone, I'd stand up and punch them out.**_**"**

* * *

_Once upon a time, there lived an unhappy teenage girl. Her mother had died when she was three years old, and her father had married a widow with twin daughters when she was five. Her stepmother didn't like her one bit as she was jealous of her radiant beauty and of the hold she had on her husband. All her stepmother's kind thoughts and loving touches were for her own daughters. Nothing was too good for them – dresses, shoes, delicious food, soft beds, cars, and every home comfort._

_But for the poor unhappy girl, there was nothing at all. No dresses, only her stepsisters' hand-me-downs. No lovely dishes, nothing but scraps. No rest and no comfort. She had to work hard all day, except for when she had to go to school. Only when evening came was she allowed to sit for a while in her room by her window ledge. That's why most people called her Cinderella; since her life was exactly like the poor girl from the fairy tale._

_Even though Cinderella was dressed in old hand-me-downs she was still one of the loveliest girls in town. While her stepsisters, no matter how splendid and elegant their clothes were, they were still clumsy, lumpy and ugly – and always would be._

_The reason Cinderella had such a miserable life under the rule of her stepmother, was because on her ninth birthday, her father died in a tragic accident, and as per his wishes, he was cremated, and so, Cinderella would constantly visit his grave, where an empty coffin lay._

_However, this year held many surprises, nightmares, horrors, secrets and excitement for Cinderella, and she might be able to finally find her prince and live the happily ever after she has yearned for, one she most definitely deserved to have._

* * *

"SNOW! WAKE _UP_!"

Shocked into consciousness at the sudden screeching, Snow Silverstone involuntarily tumbled out of bed, her body crashing into the cold floor with a painful _thud_. Groaning, her eyes still heavy with sleep, she rubbed her wounded backside and winced, certain that by next morning, a nasty bruise would paint the area.

"_SNOW_!"

"I'M UP!" Snow responded obediently.

She slowly scrambled to her feet and stretched her form before she sleepily crossed her room, entered the adjoined bathroom and turned on the shower, hoping that the warm water would wake her. Warm water acted as a substitute for caffeine, since her stepmother forbade her from touching the good stuff available in the household.

Snow disliked Lucille Silverstone. She never bore the title of a mother in Snow's eyes, and she was almost certain the sole reason Lucille agreed to marry the late Mr. Silverstone over a decade ago, was because he was an incredibly rich man, and because the Silverstone name was greatly revered in Mystic Falls.

Without a doubt, Snow knew her father left behind a will in case he had the misfortune to pass before Snow reached the age of majority, designating her as the sole beneficiary of the estate, the company, the Silverstone fortune, and their possessions. Snow knew a trust fund existed under her name, and that it sat untouched, waiting for her. Unfortunately, Lucille, the cunning and evil woman, managed to keep it hidden from her and spent many hours sequestered in her study, entertaining the countless lawyers she had on retainer, all of whom were notorious for their underhanded practices. Despite the years of fruitless results and the consequent short tempers, they never stopped their relentless search for a loophole that could legally destroy the will and prevent Snow from obtaining what was rightfully hers.

After she had finished her shower, she slid on black leggings, and donned a baggy off-the-shoulder white shirt. Sitting on the ottoman of her vanity, Snow quickly blow-dried her hair and the only makeup she applied was a thin coat of transparent strawberry-flavored lip-gloss.

By Mystic Falls standards – and universally as well, not that she would ever admit it to herself since she was a self-conscious girl – Snow was utterly gorgeous. She possessed the deepest shade of black hair that cascaded down her waist in natural curls, and a flawless skin-tone, the color of snow, which was completely ironic because of her name. Her nose was petite and every time she smiled, deep dimples would form on both sides of her smooth, rounded cheeks. Moreover, her lips were plump, rosy and shaped like a petal. But the most phenomenal facial feature Snow possessed were her eyes; they were doe-like and inherently violet, framed by natural long and thick black lashes. Her violet eyes made her unique as the only person with the same shade was her mother, may she rest in peace. Furthermore enhancing her siren-like beauty was her slender neck, her lean, hourglass figure, her voluptuous breasts, her long lissome legs, and lastly, her tight bottom.

Men always ogled her, a fact that had Lucille and her stepsisters insanely jealous of her, and Snow was an innately likeable person that prompted their hatred of her to escalate into dangerous proportions – but it was out of her control. She knew the reason behind the distribution of ugly hand-me-downs by Lucille was so that men would stop looking at her and compliments would never reach her ears, but it never seemed to work.

For Snow could wear a burlap sack and make it look breathtaking.

Making her way down to the kitchen, she grabbed an apple and quickly scarfed it down before rushing over to the stove to fix breakfast for Lucille and her stepsisters'. Twenty minutes later, the kitchen fell victim to a mouth-watering aroma, but by now, it was drilled into Snow's mind that she was never welcome to her own cooking.

"I'm supposed to be driving to school today-"

"No! It's _my turn_ to drive, you ninny!"

"Oh, shut up! Let's eat."

Not bothering to spare Snow a glance or bid her good morning, the twins rushed to the island and proceeded to wolf down their breakfast with the manners of a Neanderthal.

Haisley and Paisley – those were her stepsisters. They were _the_ definition of ugly. The twins shared identical mousy-brown hair that stopped at their shoulder blades and gave them the resemblance of a drowned rat, eyes an onyx black, and thin lips. Their nose was long and slightly crooked with a protuberant bump at its bridge, and they possessed similar sharp cheekbones. They weren't fat, but sturdy with small breasts. The only distinguishing feature that helped people tell them apart was their birthmark – Haisley had a medium-sized mole on her upper lip, while Paisley's sat on the bottom of her right eyelid.

Snow constantly overheard Lucille promise the twins that she would have them surgically removed by "_the best of the best_" by the time she begins her search for suitable suitors – according to Snow's best friends, it was merely wishful thinking and blind desperation from the step-monster.

"Don't forget to clean up, _Cinderella_," was the only acknowledgement she received from the sneering twins, both of whom promptly grabbed their backpacks and lumbered over to their car, the sound of them arguing in nasal voices over who's turn it was to drive resonating from the front lawn, despite the closed door.

"_Jerks_," Snow mumbled to herself.

Emitting a forlorn sigh, Snow gathered the dirty dishes and carefully dropped them in the sink before she proceeded to rinse them thoroughly, dry them off, and store them in their rightful place. Josephine Cochrane was an ingenious woman who strove for the betterment of housewives; unfortunately, Snow never reaped the benefits of her creation as Lucille sold their state of the art dishwasher as a creative form of torture, preferring that Snow manually slave over the washing of the dishes – as though cleaning the entire manor wasn't enough hard labor.

Suddenly, the sound of a car purposely honking could be heard from the driveway and Snow allowed her lips to curve into a smile, recognizing the identity of the honker. Snow would travel to school on feet, thankful that her house was only a fifteen minute walk away from Mystic Falls High, since Lucille never bothered getting her a car from _her_ own money or even allowed her to borrow one of the many cars from the collection in the garage, most of which were probably gathering dust. But when her best friends found out, they emphatically insisted that she was on their way, not taking no for an answer. In the end, her profuse denials went ignored and she became an official car-pooler.

Snow's life may consist of a horrible home and a loveless family, forced to become an orphan and a slave at an early age, nevertheless, she was lucky to have been blessed with great, _genuine_ friends and a wonderful social life.

Elena Gilbert, Bonnie Bennett and Caroline Forbes – those girls with unique and lovely personalities were Snow's best friends, and the sole reason behind the smiles that erupted on her face. Haisley and Paisley were her age, and were constantly jealous over the fact that she landed herself the popular friends while they were slumming with the regular Joes.

Quickly drying her hands, Snow grabbed her bag and was about to head for the front door, when the distinctive sound of somebody clearing their throat rang from behind her. Her shoulder slumped in defeat and she turned to confront her stepmother. Lucille Silverstone passed down her mousy brown hair to her daughters; however the difference between them, other than the fact that she was a darn sight better, was that she possessed a straight-sloped nose and muddy-green eyes.

"What are your plans for after school?"

"I have work, Lucille," Snow responded meekly, suppressing her need to fidget in front of the intimidating woman.

Her icy gaze narrowed as she looked down her nose at Snow. "_Hmm_. In that case, I'll call Marianne and have her prepare lunch and dinner. Goodbye," regarding her coldly with one last glare, Lucille pivoted on her feet and walked away without so much as a '_have a good day_' or at least a '_come back safely_'. Not even a simple '_take care_'.

The problem was that Snow was too nice for her own good. She hated disappointing people, and because of that, her character flaw developed, prompting her into becoming an obedient and servile individual and therefore, an easy target for bullies and those who wished to take advantage of her due to her stature in Mystic Falls, her beauty, her friends, and her riches. Her best friends attempted many times, to no avail, into instilling a backbone in her armor, in the hopes that she would learn to stand up for herself and stop those with bad intentions from stepping all over her.

But it was no use; Snow Silverstone was too meek and submissive.

A people pleaser… That's what she was.

Recovering from the brief anxiety attack that usually accompanied most of her confrontations with Lucille, Snow happily opened the passenger door and jumped into Bonnie's car, the sight of her two best friends' beaming smiles exponentially brightening her mood, and she immediately attacked them with hugs that they gladly returned.

"What's new, girlfriends?" Snow inquired giddily.

"_Well_, I was waiting to pick you up before I said anything. Grams is telling me I'm psychic. Our ancestors were from Salem, witches and all that. I know _crazy_," Bonnie revealed in one breath, the left corner of her lips quirking upwards when Snow's eyes widened, which prompted her to enunciate her opinion regarding her Grams' sanity, or lack thereof. "But she's going _on and on_ about it, and I'm like, put this woman in a home already! But then, I started thinking… I predicted Obama _and_ I predicted Heath Ledger. _And_ I _still_ _think_ Florida will break off and turn into little resort islands–"

Wide violet eyes were suddenly glassy with a veneer of tears as Snow swiftly interrupted her friend's ramblings, "Whoa, slam the brakes, Bon! No one, I repeat _no one_, could have predicted Heath Ledger's tragic death…" She sniffed, her gaze lowering to her laps as a tear slid down her pale cheek, "The news completely broke my heart."

Bonnie laughed at Snow's reaction before sending her a semi-compassionate smile. Glancing over at Elena, she noticed her staring out the window, eyes blank, "_Elena_! Back in the car."

Shaking her head, Elena gave Bonnie and Snow an apologetic look, "I did it again, didn't I? I-I'm sorry, Bonnie." Ever since the accident, she's developed a habit of spacing out. "You were telling me that…" the brunette trailed off.

"Bonnie's psychic now," Snow piped up, scooting over and positioning herself between the driver and passenger seat, her arm hugging Elena's headrest.

"Right. Sure, Bonnie," Elena let out a skeptical laugh. "Okay, then predict something about me," the brunette challenged, tilting her body slightly so that she could better face the two girls without craning her neck.

"I see…"

But exactly _what_ Bonnie saw, it definitely wasn't the crow that appeared so suddenly and slammed into her windshield, which in turn, caused her hand to slip slightly from the steering wheel and the car to swerve, prompting her foot to pound on the brakes. "_What was that_?!"

One hand stilled over her thundering heart while the other was bone-white where it was clenched tightly around the headrest, Snow stuttered, "W-Was that a crow?" She then proceeded to stare out the window and noticed Elena hunched over herself, almost hyperventilating, "Elena, are you okay?"

"It's, it's okay. I'm fine," she breathed out. But really, Elena wasn't fine.

Three months ago, her parents went to pick Elena up from a party at the woods and their car drove off Wickery Bridge. Elena was the only survivor as the rescue-team found her drenched, unconscious body by the ledge of the sidewalk. Snow was completely devastated at their passing as Grayson and Miranda Gilbert had taken the role of the parents she was robbed of and in desperate need of; they constantly doted on her and looked out for her, and with their death, she felt like an orphan again.

"It was like a bird or something. It came out of nowhere," Bonnie appeared a mixture of guilty and freaked out as she only had eyes for the hyperventilating brunette.

"Crow. It was a crow," Snow automatically corrected with a sigh. Bonnie shot her a look that screamed '_now is not the time_,' that had Snow sheepishly shrugging in response.

"Really, I can't be freaked out by cars for the rest of my life," Elena shakily reassured them, the tremor in her voice failing to quell their concerns. Bonnie stared at Elena for a brief moment before starting the car and looking ahead, her expression determined, "I predict this year is going to be kick ass. _And_ I predict all the sad and dark times are over and you are going to be beyond happy." Eyes flickering toward Snow from the rearview mirror, she smiled, "Both of you."

Snow beamed and fist-pumped the air, "Hear, hear!"

Finally reaching Mystic Falls High, the trio made their way inside, their arms linked while they laughed over random subjects in an attempt to change the horrible mood that blanketed them from their literal run-in with the crow. "Major lack of male real estate," Bonnie whined, her hazel-green eyes scouring the hallway. She scrunched her nose in distaste and inclined her head at a senior, "Look at the shower curtain on Kelly Beech. She looks like a hot-, can I still say 'tranny mess'?"

"No, that's over," Elena grinned at her best friend in amusement before exchanging an eye roll with Snow.

Excited, Bonnie dragged her friends down the school's hallway, "Ahh, find a man, coin a phrase. It's a busy year."

Taking notice of a familiar head of blonde hair, Elena sent a friendly wave Matt's way, but his respond was to turn his back on her, purposefully ignoring her. Crestfallen, Elena pouted, "He hates me." A small crease appeared between her brows as her wounded eyes flickered between her best friends for some words of reassurance.

"That's not hate. That's 'you dumped me, but I'm too cool to show it, but secretly I'm listening to Air Supply's greatest hits'," Bonnie matter-of-factly divulged, seemingly unbothered by the hostility Matt was radiating.

Nodding in agreement, Snow flashed the brunette a reassuring smile, "Elena, Matty needs _time_. I mean… you _dumped him_ after _years_ of dating. Summer break is not enough time to heal a broken heart."

Elena beamed back at her, "You always know the right things to say, Snow."

"I feel like I should be insulted… but I'm not," Bonnie stated, her tone nonchalant, which prompted the trio to double up in mild laughter.

"Elena. Oh my _God_!" a familiar bubbly voice shrieked. Searching for the owner of the voice, their eyes locked onto Caroline Forbes: the fourth member of their sisterhood. The blonde rushed to their side and immediately pounced on Elena, pulling her into a tight embrace before she swiftly pulled back to hold her at arm's length. A pair of baby blues intensely studied Elena's features. "How are you? Oh, it's so good to see you. How is she? Is she good?" she rapidly inquired, looking over at Snow and Bonnie for confirmation.

"Caroline, I'm right here. And I'm fine. Thank you," Elena retorted in a strained yet pleasant voice.

Caroline was clearly in a state of disbelief, "Really?"

Donning a forced smile, Elena responded in a clipped tone, "Yes. Much better."

Disbelief melted into sympathy. "Oh, you poor thing," she tut-tutted, drawing her into another crushing embrace. Deciding it was best she cut in before Elena lashed out at the sensitive blonde and hurt her feelings – which Caroline would eventually hide behind her infamous bitchy exterior – Snow intervened, "Care, maybe you should loosen up a teeny bit, sweetie."

"Oh! Okay, see you guys later?" Caroline was extremely perky; she had always been a morning girl.

"Ok! _Bye_!" Bonnie called after her retreating back.

Shaking her head, her expression having settled on shock, Elena mumbled, "No comment."

"I'm not going to say anything," Bonnie huffed, hazel-greens dancing with mirth at the quirky blonde's behavior. Snow gazed between the two girls in bewilderment, "Did that really just happen?" and that set them off again, as they laughed their way to class.

Really, Caroline Forbes meant well, and she was their best friend; she was the last quarter that completed their sisterhood, but sometimes Caroline needed a muzzle. Due to her insecurities, she often came out as insensitive and too brash, giving people the wrong impression about her. But no matter what, they would always love her.

As the three girls started to pass by the school office, Bonnie suddenly stopped, "Hold up. Who's this?" Like magnets, her eyes focused intently on the interior of the office, or to be more precise, the individual currently in the middle of a conversation with the receptionist who looked oddly flushed. Imitating their friend, Snow and Elena glanced inside, but all they could see was broad shoulders hidden behind a black leather jacket that gave off a bad-boy vibe.

Elena shrugged, uninterested, "All I see is back."

"It's a _hot_ back," Bonnie insisted, definitely entranced by the stranger.

"You cannot be serious, Bon! He could have a hot back but an ugly face, or-or, he could be _extremely_ good-looking with an ugly personality, or-" Snow's usual, indignant diatribe regarding appearance vs. personality was quickly interrupted by Bonnie as Elena attempted to hold back her laughter. "Jeez Snow, we get it. _Chill_!" Bonnie refocused her dreamy stare on the back she deemed as 'hot' before her posture suddenly formed a straight line and a calculating glint entered her eyes, "I'm sensing Seattle. _And_ he plays the guitar."

Amused by her best friend's theatrics, Elena shook her head and once again, exchanged an eye-roll with Snow, "You're really going to run this whole psychic thing into the ground, huh?"

"Ya know, you should probably look into acting as a possible career. Maybe theater," Snow imparted solemnly, though her lips struggled to remain a straight line.

At that precise moment, Elena couldn't help but notice her younger brother, Jeremy, head into the boy's bathroom, and she promptly ran after him, leaving Snow and Bonnie to their discussion as the latter burned a hole into the new guy's leather-clad back.

"Please be hot," Bonnie murmured under her breath, her body doing a pleading jiggle.

"Keep your hormone levels down, Bon," Snow giggled. Bonnie swatted her arm, not the least bit amused or ashamed, but at that moment, the new guy turned around and walked past them, and Snow could have sworn she saw a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

"_Whoa_!" Bonnie breathed out, her gaze stalking his movement.

'_Whoa_' didn't even begin to cover it. He was HOT! Like _really __hot_! Deep brown naturally tousled hair, forest green eyes that looked so intense they gave off an impression that they were looking right into your soul, and to top it off, he had the face and the body structure of a model.

_Hello, new guy!_

Dumbly, they followed his movement, turning around just in time to see Elena bump into the new guy on his way to the bathroom. The girls watched in amusement as they exchanged a few awkward words before the mortified brunette ran over to their side and dragged them by their forearms to history class, obviously not wanting to discuss the embarrassing situation she had landed herself in as a result of her performing her duty as the concerned, older sister.

Snow sat at her customary desk between Caroline and Elena with Bonnie directly in front of her, and as usual, the four girls were texting and checking their social media on their phones instead of listening to the dull sound Mr. Tanner emitted when teaching history.

Suddenly, her phone vibrated with an incoming text from Bonnie: 'HAWT-E. STARING ELENA!' Snow whipped around to stare at the new guy and her best friend, only to see them sharing intense looks before Elena shyly ducked behind her long, curtained hair and turned away, grinning abashedly at Snow and Bonnie who both gave her subtle thumbs up.

* * *

After school, Snow and Elena decided to head to the cemetery together. Elena needed someone to help give her the strength to visit her parents without breaking down and Snow was only too glad to accompany her since she always stopped over every odd day to visit her parents.

"I'll wait for you by the gates when you're done, kay?"

Elena nodded gratefully and, clutching her diary close to her chest, she slowly made her way to the Gilbert Family plot. Sighing forlornly, Snow made a left, and after passing a couple of headstones, she paused and lowered herself to the ground in order to sit cross-legged in front of the headstones engraved with the names 'Stanley Silverstone' and 'Selene Silverstone'.

"So, today was the first day of junior year. Nothing exciting happened, really. I woke up, cooked breakfast for Haisley and Paisley, Bonnie and Elena picked me up, and we went to school. There was this new guy at school… I actually have a feeling that him and Elena might hit it off. Yeah, yeah, I know what you're probably thinking, Mom, I mean…I'm just guessing since I don't really have any memories of you-, not that I remember, if I _do_ have any… I haven't met my Prince Charming yet. I know, sounds silly." Violet eyes brimming with unshed tears stared intensely at her parents' headstones, her fingers pulling absentmindedly on the grass. She never noticed that an individual stood at the far end of the woods, rapturously watching her, or that a fog was ominously creeping towards her. "Lucille and her team of lawyers are still trying to find a loophole around the will, but I gotta give it to you Dad, you sure made it iron clad. I-I've been having a hard time dealing with the deaths of Grayson and Miranda, they were, they were the stable parents I needed in my life, and now they're gone, just like you. Everyone always ends up dying on me, everyone I care about leaves at the end and I-I –"

Large sobs wracked Snow's form as a heavy load of tears streamed down her face and stained her ivory complexion. Her grieving however, was promptly interrupted by the slithering fog as it approached her position and threatened to engulf her form. Frantic, she jumped to her feet, grabbed her bag and ran toward the cemetery's gate.

A loud scream escaped her lips, her heart nearly jumping out of her chest when she bumped into someone. Apparently, the person she slammed emitted a scream as well, one that sounded so familiar and–

"_Elena_?"

"_Snow_?"

"Oh, _thank God_," they breathed out in relief, and if they weren't terrified to the state of almost tears, they would have collapsed into fits of laughter at their ridiculous behavior.

After all, Mystic Falls was such a boring, picturesque town, one where hardly anything went wrong. Except car accidents and drownings, apparently. Therefore, their sudden fright spell was laughable, especially since they were both well-known and popular teenagers that belonged to the Founding Families, which established them as two of the most protected individuals of Mystic Falls.

"Let's get out of here," Elena muttered. The words barely left her lips when she tripped over a root, scraping her knees in the process. Suppressing a chuckle, Snow helped her onto her feet when all of a sudden, the new guy appeared before them. Yet _again_, the best friends found themselves jumping in fear.

He stared between them, concern palpable on his features, "Are you two okay?"

"Were you following us?" Elena threw him a suspicious glare and therefore prompting Snow to smack her arm, "Rude, Elena!"

Rubbing the wounded section of her upper arm, Elena scowled at the raven-haired girl, "_What_!? Who hangs out in a cemetery, Snow."

"Uh, I, uh, I have family here," the new guy interrupted their small banter. Snow shot the brunette a smirk that reeked of smugness, "You see? People that have family here dummy."

Elena looked horrified. "Oh. Wow. Tactless. I'm sorry. It's the fog, it's making me…foggy," she hastily expressed regret, and in the process, ending her apology on a lame note which garnered a barely noticeable smile from the new guy. On the other hand, Snow facepalmed. "You could have come up with a better excuse, Lena," she muttered.

The brunette found herself, once again, tossing her best friend a half-hearted glare, prompting the new guy to abandon all pretenses of politeness and blatantly chuckle at their endearing exchange. All of a sudden, Snow did a double-take, Elena's words resonating the recess of her mind. "Wait did you say fog? I saw it too!" violet eyes were wide with fear and her hand snaked around her friend's wrist in a tight grip.

"Really?" Elena breathed out, her shoulders slumping in palpable relief as she feared her eyes were playing tricks on her and that she had merely imagined the far-fetched incident – although, in retrospect, Snow _did_ have an overactive imagination. However, it was _highly_ unlikely that the two girls conjured the occurrence of such an unbelievable circumstance at the same time without the other's knowledge. "What about the bird, it was all very Hitchcock for a second. That is the bird movie, right, the Hitchcock…?" Elena trailed off in embarrassment and Snow giggled into the back of her hand, crinkled eyes flickering between the two in utmost delight. "I'm Elena," she awkwardly concluded.

"Snow," the raven-haired girl introduced herself with a half-wave.

Stefan offered the duo a genuine smile, "Stefan."

"I know. We have history together," Elena chucked nervously.

"And English and French," Stefan added, and honestly, Snow couldn't help but think about how cute and compatible they were as her violet orbs intently watched Stefan delicately pull a leaf from Elena's hair, ensuring he didn't pull at her strands and harm her.

The movement had Elena zeroing in on his ring, "Nice ring."

"It looks very Renaissance-y," Snow complimented, leaning over so that she could get a closer look. Wiggling his fingers into a fist, Stefan proceeded to wiggle them open and emitted a chuckle, "It's a family ring, yeah. I'm kinda stuck with it. It's weird, huh?"

"No, no. it's just, I mean, there are rings and then there's _that_," Elena blurted out, not making any sense whatsoever.

Snow shook her head at her friend's incomprehensible babbling. Elena was _never_ nervous around _anyone_; it was obvious that she was into him.

The amicable ambience between them grew strained as Stefan frowned, his voice clipped as he abruptly asked the brown-haired girl if she had hurt herself. Head cocked in confusion, Elena slowly pulled up the hem of her jeans and cringed at the blood gushing from the small cut.

"Elena, are you okay?" worry had etched itself on Snow's features as she approached her friend. Shrugging in nonchalance, Elena patted the soft-spoken girl's forearm and said, "Yeah, Snow, it's just a small cut. Not a big deal, it'll heal." Her comment however, prompted Stefan's face to contort, evoking Elena's concern, "Are you okay?"

The inquiry had Snow's gaze flickering upward to meet Stefan's darkening eyes and her orbs started to widen upon noticing the appearance of veins crawling around his lower eyelid.

"You should go. Take care of that," was Stefan's stiff response, adamantly averting their curious gaze. A blink of an eye later, he vanished from their midst, prompting their jaws to drop in disbelief.

Agitated, Elena scoured the cemetery, bewildered beyond belief, "Wha-, where did he go?"

Snow shrugged, "He's probably real squeamish around blood. Anyways I gotta go to the Grill. My shift starts soon." Parting her with a brief hug, Snow smiled and left the cemetery.

"Okay, I'll see you soon," Elena waved her off.

* * *

Finally making it to the Grill, Snow tied the apron all employees were required to wear around her waist while she studied its interior. Her eyes flickered from the table Matt and Tyler were sharing, to the happy families and a handful of her classmates littered throughout the restaurant, and lastly, on Jeremy, who sat by the bar, elbows perched on the bartop as he spoke to Vicki, a senior and fellow waitress.

"Hey Vicki," Snow smiled sweetly.

Upon hearing her name and the sweet voice that accompanied it, Vicki turned away from the argument she and Jeremy were engrossed in and beamed at Snow. "Hey, sweetie! There aren't any tables placing orders at the moment," she dutifully informed her. Snow gratefully nodded and perched herself at the end of the bar, propping her chin on a closed fist as she patiently waited for the after-school rush.

Snow made a valiant attempt to block Vicki and Jeremy's heated conversation, unfortunately it was a fruitless endeavor as the two weren't trying to be quiet and were incredibly careless with their words. It was almost as though they were welcoming eavesdroppers. Might as well put up a sign that stated "_Come join us! We have nothing to hide_" on their foreheads.

"We hooked up a few times in a drug haze. It's over. You gotta back off before you ruin things between me and Tyler," Vicki bit out, her face drawn in frustration and Snow could tell by her tone alone that this was a recurring argument.

"Oh, come on, the guy's a total douche, he only wants you for your ass," was Jeremy's eloquent reply. Snow sucked in a deep breath and hid her eyes that had widened in disbelief at Jeremy's tactless rejoinder. She had arrived at the conclusion that Jeremy needed serious lessons when it came to talking to girls.

Vicki appeared unamused, her dark eyes narrowing into slits and a sneer crossing her lips. "Yeah? What do you want me for?" she hissed before walking away to take Caroline and Bonnie's order, both of whom had just arrived and were sitting in their regular booth.

A sigh of frustration left his lips, which quickly turned into a groan the moment his eyes landed on the raven-haired girl who was subtly attempting to avert his gaze and appear unconcerned – to no avail. "How much did you hear?" Jeremy groaned into the bartop.

"Eh, not much," Snow shrugged noncommittally, walking over to stand opposite to him. "Just enough to know that you guys had sex."

"Great," Jeremy mumbled dejectedly.

Snow winked and made a zipping motion across her lips, "My lips are sealed, Jer." He smiled in return and left Snow to her chore of cleaning up the tables as she had absolutely nothing to do. Since her shift just started, she couldn't ditch and join her friends at their table, who were now joined by Elena and much to her delight, Stefan – though she did feel bad for Matt who was currently staring at them, dejected.

The manager of Mystic Grill, Roy Dawson, incessantly showered Snow with favoritism and constantly treated her as though she were his long-lost niece. Whenever he was around, he would encourage Snow to sit with her friends when business was slow or when she was on her break, but Snow felt bad for her co-workers and did not want to advertise the fact that the man who signed their paychecks was blatantly favoring her. Vicki knew, and she would encourage her as well, but Snow was too nice and like always, thought of everyone's feelings before her own.

Snow always felt like her greatest weakness was her kindness and her heart that was big enough for everyone.

* * *

The next day, Snow woke up and performed her role as the housemaid, a routine that had been ingrained in her head since the age of nine.

Her alarm clock was her step-monster, screaming for her to wake up and prepare breakfast for her precious daughters. She showered, got dressed, made the twins' breakfast, ate a small, unfulfilling apple or banana – whichever was available, and then went to school with Bonnie who was waiting for her outside in her car, but this time, she was alone, indicating Elena must have taken her own car to school.

…And here Snow sat at her customary desk, disinterestedly listening to another boring lecture starring Mr. Tanner before he randomly started quizzing the unsuspecting students.

"The Battle of Willow Creek took place right at the end of the war in our very own Mystic Falls. How many casualties resulted in this battle? Ms. Bennett?"

Completely ignorant, Bonnie caged her lower lip between her upper and lower front teeth as she contemplated the most plausible answer that would help her escape Tanner's wrath unscathed. "Um…a lot? I'm not sure. Like a _whole lot_," she enunciated, a small smile curving her lips.

His expression displayed palpable disdain. "Cute becomes dumb in an instant, Ms. Bennett." Surveying the class like a hawk would its prey, Mr. Tanner finally settled on his next victim, and without warning, he pounced, "Mr. Donovan? Would you like to take this opportunity to overcome your embedded jock stereotype?"

Leaning back on his chair, Matt swung backward on its rear legs and offered him a lazy smirk, "It's okay, Mr. Tanner, I'm cool with it." The All-American quarterback's response had the class dissolving into laughter.

Mr. Tanner raised an eyebrow at him before his eyes narrowed on his next unfortunate victim: Elena. Oh poor Elena, Snow knew that she hated being put under the spotlight, especially by Tanner – the spiteful man relished in making his students squirm. "Elena? Surely you can enlighten us about one of the town's most significantly historical events?"

Elena looked very much like a deer caught in the headlights, her doe-like Bambi eyes meeting Tanner's cruel onyx ones.

"I'm sorry, I-I don't know," she stuttered, pink patches forming on her cheeks.

"I was willing to be lenient last year for _obvious reasons_, Elena. But the personal excuses ended with summer break."

_What a douche_! Bonnie and Matt didn't know the answers either, yet he didn't say anything, instead choosing to victimize Elena who was still dealing with the tragic ordeal of her parents' death. And he actually had the _gall_ to bring them up in the middle of class.

"There were 346 casualties. Unless you're counting local civilians," Stefan spoke up, completely sparing Elena from further humiliation. Stefan was _so sweet_; Elena definitely caught herself a good one.

Mr. Tanner looked shocked, and honestly, Snow couldn't blame the man. It really was a miracle if anyone managed to answer a question correctly in his class. "That's correct. Mister…?"

"Salvatore."

"Salvatore," Mr. Tanner mulled it over. "Any relation to the original settlers here at Mystic Falls?"

"Distant."

Throwing him a discrete glance, Snow couldn't help but think that Stefan was acting purposely vague.

"Well, very good. Except, of course there were no civilian casualties in this battle."

Stefan cut him off before he could proceed with his boring lesson, "Actually, there were 27, sir. Confederate soldiers, they fired on the church, believing it to be housing weapons. They were wrong. It was a night of great loss. The founder's archives are uh, stored in civil hall if you'd like to brush up on your facts, Mr. Tanner."

_Whoa_. The whole class began muttering excitedly to themselves. Tanner just got Tannered – _way to go Stefan!_

Once school reached cessation, Snow headed to the Grill for the late afternoon shift, even though Roy _had_ given her the day off, insisting that she enjoy herself tonight at the party that her classmates were hosting at the woods. The reason being, Snow knew that if she returned home, Lucille would force her stay in – God forbid she allowed her the opportunity to enjoy herself.

After her shift had ended, she ducked into the bathroom and hurriedly donned her favorite denim jeans short and a plain yet form-fitting red halter-top she bought at a bargain from Mrs. Penny's Thrift Store. She paired them with her favorite red ankle converse before hitching a ride with Bonnie, who was waiting for her outside with Caroline.

The woods brimmed with students and reeked of cheap beer and vodka, the ground littered with red plastic cups and empty beer bottles, and in the midst of it were Bonnie, Elena and Snow; the trio stood congregated in a half-circle while they drank beer.

Throughout the party, the girls separated and Snow caught a glimpse of her stepsisters laughing and chugging beer with their group of friends. Wrinkling her nose in disgust and slightly fearful of them identifying her and confronting her, she rapidly turned to search for her friends in hopes of avoiding them as she was in no mood for their snide and hurtful remarks. However, Snow only managed to take two steps in the opposite direction before a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around her waist and reeled her forward, and she found herself facing Joshua Reeves – a senior and according to half the girls of Mystic Falls High, a complete heartthrob. "Hey babe, where you going off to in a hurry?" he leered down at her, his breath reeking of vodka, an excessive amount of vodka that had her nostrils burning in disgust.

Suffice to say, Snow was not a fan of alcohol, especially strong liquor due to the negative effects it had on people and the horrible transformation people underwent under its influence.

"Let me go, Joshua!" Snow pleaded, her hands desperately attempting to detach his arms from around her waist, but her attempts were futile as her struggles only succeeded in exciting him and prompted his hand to travel downwards to enthusiastically grope her ass. "Stop! Joshua let _go of me_! _Please_…"

Joshua had been chasing after Snow for nearly two years, but Snow was not interested in him and no matter how much he tried, or sweet-talked her, she never budged. Joshua wasn't ugly. In fact, Snow never factored his looks throughout her constant rejections. Joshua Reeves was very sexy for Mystic Falls standards and all the girls chased after him. He had curly honey-blonde hair, entrancing blue eyes and a perfect, athletic build since he was one of the stars of the football team; Snow's issue with him was his personality. He was crude, rude, disrespectful, and simply put, he didn't strike her as the Prince Charming she had been waiting her entire life for.

His touch didn't elicit sparks of electricity or goosebumps out of her, but shivers of disgust. The intensity of his gaze didn't prompt a pleased flush out of her or make her feel special and loved, but had her recoiling in fear. When he spoke to her, she didn't feel like spending forever by his side, but instead felt the urge to run the other direction, far away from him. Everything about Joshua Reeves frightened her and unlike the denizens of girls in Mystic Falls, she didn't feel lucky for having intrigued him, but extremely unfortunate.

"Come on babe, stop being a _tease_, we've been through this for nearly two years now, why don't you just _give in_?" Joshua's lips were now attacking her neck and Snow emitted a pathetic whimper as she pleaded for him to release her, her hands clawing desperately on his strong arms.

It was very fortunate for Snow, but very unfortunate for others, when Elena's piercing scream for help permeated the air, distracting Joshua and allowing Snow to rip herself from his strong hold and rush over to Elena's side, swiping the tears that managed to escape with angry hands while stubbornly ignoring Joshua's yells for her to come back.

Snow gasped when she saw Jeremy trailing after Elena, his eyes boring into the unconscious body in his arms, and she screamed for her friend, "_VICKI_! Oh my God, Vicki! What happened to her?"

"Vicki? Vicki, what the hell?!" Matt yelled frantically, and Snow's heart went out for him; Vicki was his older sister and the only family he had at the moment.

"Somebody, call an ambulance!" Tyler exclaimed.

The mass formed a wide circle around Vicki, giving them a wide berth. Forcing her way into to the front, Snow crouched by her unconscious friend's side and started to feel for a pulse, sighing in relief when a weak pulse beat against her fingers. Roaming Vicki's form, she searched frantically for the source of all the blood, her eyes finally narrowing on her neck where she could clearly see two small, yet deep, puncture marks.

"She was bitten by something," Snow murmured, mostly to herself.

"Vicki, _Vicki_! Come on, open your eyes, look at me," desperation punctuated Matt's voice and Snow honestly couldn't blame him; if anything were to happen to Elena, Bonnie and Caroline, Snow didn't know what she would do. She'd probably descend into insanity or transform into a shell of herself, or perhaps enter an endless grieving process – they weren't _just_ her friends, but her sisters, and they have been ever since the age of three. The mere thought of continuing life without any one of them was unimaginable.

After the ambulance departed with Vicki and Matt, Bonnie offered a ride to the Grill so that Caroline could sober up before dropping them both at their respective homes. Her eyes immediately landed on Joshua, and she took note of his angry footsteps as he walked toward her, his blue eyes blazing with anger and lust. With that in mind, Snow jumped into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut, locking herself in the car and ignoring Bonnie and Caroline's identical expressions of bemusement.

"Are you sober yet?" Bonnie sighed, watching Caroline drain her second cup of coffee since they arrived at Mystic Grill.

"No."

"Keep drinking. I gotta get you and Snow home. I gotta get _me_ home," Bonnie stressed, her feet tapping on the floor impatiently.

A whine escaped Caroline's lips, "Why didn't he go for me? You know, how come the guys that I want _never_ want me?"

Snow gazed at Caroline with empathy, realizing a beat late that she had set her sights on Stefan. Unfortunately, he only had eyes for Elena. Snow couldn't pretend to understand what her blonde best friend was going through since she never showed a sliver of interest in any of the guys in Mystic Falls. She was waiting for something inside of her to click or for fireworks to blind her vision, or butterflies to flutter in her stomach, or _something magical_ to occur when she shared eye or tactile contact with a guy for the first time. Even a short conversation would do. _Any_ form of interaction, really.

Yes, Snow knew it was ridiculous, and that love at first sight probably didn't exist except in fairy tales or fantasy books and movies, but Snow never gave up on hope; she honestly believed everyone had a soulmate out there... That there were two souls created by God, roaming around aimlessly in the universe, waiting to be reconnected with their other half. That there were two people _meant_ for each other.

"I'm not touching that," Bonnie stated bluntly.

"I'm inappropriate. I always say the wrong thing. And…Elena always says the _right thing_. She doesn't even try! And he just picks her. And she's the one that _everyone_ picks, for _everything_. And I try _soo_ hard, and… I'm never the one," a few tears escaped Caroline's eyelids, staining her beautiful face. Snow didn't hesitate; she immediately leaned forward and wiped them away with her bare hands, her expression sorrowful and sympathetic. Her sad blue eyes bore into her compassionate friend's violet ones, "You too, Snow. _God_ I don't think I'll ever understand why you never gave any of the guys a chance. They're always running after you, scrambling for your attention. And you always push them away."

"Yeah well, it's not always a good thing, _trust_ _me_," Snow darkly admitted, subtly shivering as she recalled the way Joshua held her and kissed her neck. The mere thought had her flinch in revulsion and she ached for a long hot bath to erase the ghost of his unwanted touches and kisses that clung to her skin.

"It's not a competition, Caroline," Bonnie attempted to console her, to no avail.

The blonde's glum retort had Bonnie and Snow exchanging sorrowful looks, "Yeah, it is."

* * *

_**CAST:**_

**Eva Green **_**as**_** Lucille Silverstone**

**Matt Barr **_**as**_** Joshua Reeves**

**Jon Favreau** **_as_ Roy Dawson**

* * *

"_**You haven't seen crazy, Jeremy! I gave you a summer pass, but I am done watching you destroy yourself.**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert**_

"_**Hey, keep it down. I don't want to tell the whole world I deflowered Elena's kid brother.**_**" **_**– **__**Vicki Donovan**_

"_**We're planning a June wedding.**_**" **_**– **__**Caroline Forbes**_

"_**Well, you have the mysterious thing going, too. Twinged in sadness.**_**" **_**– **__**Stefan Salvatore**_

"_**Last spring… my parents' car drove off of a bridge into the lake. And I was in the backseat and I survived, but…they didn't. So that's my story.**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert**_

"_**Every night, before I sleep, I cannot help but wonder… why did you marry her, Dad? What did you ever see in her?**_**" **_**– **__**Snow Silverstone**_

"_**No, you're worse. You want to talk to me, get to know me, see into my soul and screw and screw and screw until you're done with me.**_**" **_**– **__**Vicki Donovan**_

"_**I don't care if it's the last thing I do. By the time I graduate, I'm gonna have popped your cherry, Snow Silverstone. Keep playing hard to get… keep teasing me, sweets. 'Cause in the end, I'm gonna devour you whole.**_**" **_**– **__**Joshua Reeves**_

"_**Something's not right! Something's happening and it's nothin' good. The signs, it's like they're on the fritz! I'm gonna leave Dean in charge and stay close to the area. And you, keep me updated… strictly need-to-know basis.**_**" **_**– **__**John Winchester**_

* * *

**A/N:**** So, this is my new story. Now I promise it is very interesting and I have many ideas for future chapters. I am just starting slowly. Next chapters we'll see more of the ugly stepsisters.**

**R&R.**


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:**** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters, ideas and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

_**CHAPTER 2:**_

**BLACK SHEEP RETURNS**

* * *

**Comet (**_**noun**_**): a celestial body moving about the sun, consisting of a central mass surrounded by an envelope of dust and gas that may form a tail that streams away from the sun**

"_**It was a comet. The boy saw the comet and he felt as though his life had meaning. And when it went away, he waited his entire life for it to come back to him. It was more than just a comet because of what it brought to his life: direction, beauty, meaning. There are many who couldn't understand, and sometimes he walked among them. But even in his darkest hours, he knew in his heart that someday it would return to him, and his world would be whole again… And his belief in God and love and art would be reawakened in his heart. The boy saw the comet and suddenly his life had meaning.**_**"**

"_**I think it's just a ball of…snow and ice, trapped on a path that it can't escape. And once every 145 years, it gets to come home.**_**"**

"_**Gather 'round all you fire-starters. Whirlwind reapers and comet riders**_**"**

* * *

"Snow Silverstone!"

Mentally groaning at the irritating nasal voice, Snow froze with her hand on the doorknob and slowly pivoted around, almost as though she had no choice but to confront her doom and, lo and behold, Lucille stood right behind her, looking like she just sucked a lemon. Steadying herself, Snow masked her impatience and dislike of Lucille and remained obediently silent, "Yes, Lucille?" Bonnie was waiting for her outside and not only did she not want Bonnie to have to wait for her, she also didn't want to be the reason they arrived late to Tanner's class, as the bad-tempered man didn't except any excuses for tardiness whatsoever.

"What is this I heard from the twins regarding your attendance at a _party_ last night, _hmm_?" Lucille pursed her already thin lips, making them appear practically non-existent. When Snow kept her head down and her mouth shut, Lucille emitted an impatient huff, "_Well girl_? I thought you were at work. I do not recall giving you permission to _attend some party_."

She wanted to bash her head against a wall for being so naïve. _Of course_ Haisley and Paisley saw her last night. After Elena and Jeremy emerged from the heart of the woods with a bleeding and unconscious Vicki in the latter's arms, Snow abandoned the shadows and for front and center; she joined her friends by Vicki's side and allowed herself to share the epicenter of the partygoers' attention – while Haisley and Paisley were obtuse and lacked a healthy amount of brain cells, they weren't blind.

"The manager relieved me from my shift early, so I went for a bit with my friends."

"I see… Snow, if you are not happy with the rules I have laid out for you, then you are more than welcome to leave and become a homeless orphan," Lucille snapped. "The next time you come home late because you were frolicking around at a party with those _friends_ of yours, you shall be sleeping outside in the garden. Do I make myself clear?"

Repressing the tears that yearned to escape her eyelids, Snow whispered, "Yes, ma'am." She kept her eyes trained on her worn-out converse until the obnoxious clicking of Lucille's heels vanished. Wiping away the lone tear that managed to cascade down her face, Snow fled the house and jumped into the stationary car, forgoing her usual jubilant morning greeting.

"Snow, what's wrong?" Bonnie stared at her gentle friend, hazel-green eyes brimming with concern. In a small voice, Snow shortly elucidated, "Had a run in with the step-monster."

"_Ugh_!" Bonnie made a sound of disgust as she started the car, "What happened _this time_?"

"Haisley and Paisley ratted me out, told her I was at the party last night. And Lucille was _not_ pleased. She told me, and I quote-" she imitated her nasal voice, "-'if you are not happy with the rules I laid out for you then you are more than welcome to leave and become a homeless orphan' end quote."

"You _cannot_ be serious. Tell me you're joking," Bonnie gaped at her friend, taking her eyes off the road in the process.

She shook her head forlornly. "I wish. _God_! I hate her, Bonnie, and you _know_ _me_. I'm _incapable_ of hating anyone," Snow whined.

Making an effort to cheer her up, Bonnie swallowed back her rage and smiled at her best friend, "Don't worry Snow. One day, she'll get what's coming to her."

* * *

Confused beyond belief, her forehead betraying her emotion as she stared at Bonnie, Caroline blinked, "I'm confused. Are you psychic or clairvoyant?"

"She's a witch," Snow piped up.

Bonnie inclined her head at the raven-haired girl. "My ancestors were these really cool Salem witch chicks or something. Grams tried to explain it all, but she was looped on the liquor so I kinda tuned out. Crazy family? _Yes_," she ardently nodded her head, her eyes widening with every nod."Witches? I don't think so," she then proceeded to vigorously shake her head to emphasize her skepticism.

"Alcohol usually impels people to speak the truth," Snow matter-of-factly pointed out.

"_Usually_," Bonnie enunciated with a smirk, prompting a laugh out of the docile girl.

Huffing, Caroline pouted, "Yeah, well, feel free to conjure up the name and number of that guy from last night."

Apparently, last night, when Bonnie and Snow ducked into the bathroom, Caroline engaged in a fierce staring contest with some gorgeous guy.

"We didn't see him, _you did_. Why didn't you just talk to him?" Bonnie stared at Caroline in shock. Snow couldn't help but agree; Caroline Forbes was not a shy character. On the contrary, she was the type of person who preferred to grab the bull by its horn and therefore, would talk first and think over her actions later.

"I don't know. I was drunk," Caroline shrugged as though that explained _everything_.

Noticing Matt and Elena leisurely walking side by side at the quad, Snow excused herself and made her way over. Since the horrific event that occurred last night, she's been desperate for any news regarding Vick's condition, and Matt was her best bet.

"Hey Snow," Elena and Matt smiled.

"Hey, Matt how is Vicki?" Snow's face morphed into concern.

"They're keeping her overnight to make sure there's no infection, but she should be able to come home tomorrow," Matt looked ecstatic and Snow felt relieved. Ever since Bonnie dropped her off, she couldn't erase the image of Vicki and all that blood from her mind. She was too caring, and upon hearing the verdict, she felt a huge chip fall off her shoulder. Beaming, Snow jumped in her spot and excitedly clapped her hands together, "That's _great_!"

Her friends let out a cheerful laugh in response, Snow's happiness infectious. "It is. It's good news," Elena smiled. "Did you get in touch with your mom?"

And just like that, a cloud set over Matt's handsome face. He scowled as he recalled the short conversation with Kelly Donovan, "Called and left a message. She's in Virginia Beach with her boyfriend, so… we'll see how long it takes her to come rushing home."

Snow frowned in disapproval, shook her head and bit her lower lip hard in order to swallow back her thoughts about Vicki and Matt's flighty, sad excuse of a mother. Whenever Kelly Donovan was brought up, after having lost both her parents, and now Grayson and Miranda, Snow came to the realization that life was too short and precious, and that every moment should be lived like it was the last one. …That the world was ever-changing and anything could happen to tear people's lives apart. She couldn't imagine a good reason for any parent to _abandon_ their child. To Snow, becoming a parent was a wonderful and rewarding experience.

Slamming the door shut on her chaotic thoughts, Snow changed the subject, "Did Vicki say what kind of animal attacked her?"

He shifted and doubt clouded his features. "She said it was a vampire," he finally revealed, his tone screaming disbelief and concern for his sister's sanity.

"What?" Snow and Elena gaped. Matt chuckled at their identical looks of bewilderment. Shrugging a shoulder, he nodded, "Yeah, she wakes up last night and mutters 'vampire' and then passes out."

"Okay, that is weird," Elena blurted out.

"She was probably too doped up on morphine," Snow shrugged, grasping for straws. She refused to believe vampires _of all things_, existed.

Relief dawned on him. "Huh, you might be right. I just thought she was still drunk. But your theory makes much more sense." Suddenly, Matt turned to the brunette, his gaze intense, "So, Elena, what's up with the new guy?" Snow could tell that it was a question he had been dying to ask from the moment Elena and Stefan walked into the Grill two days ago. Snow felt awkward; exes rehashing their feelings wasn'tthe situation she wanted to be in the middle of.

"Matt," Elena prefaced, her tone soft and sympathetic. "The last thing I want to do is hurt you…"

He abruptly turned away and shook his head. He wished he hadn't asked; Elena's tone, the look of pity on her gorgeous face, and Snow's awkwardness revealed all he needed to know, proving his suspicions had been spot on. "You know, I'm-, I'm actually gonna go back to the hospital. I want to be there when Vicki wakes up, get the real story about last night," and barely sparing the girls a proper goodbye, Matt left.

"You know that ship sailed long ago Lena," Snow smiled sadly at Elena's guilt-ridden expression, their gaze never leaving Matt's retreating form.

Nodding, she turned away, unable to watch Matt's depressing retreat a moment longer, "I feel so bad. I _never_ wanted to hurt Matt."

"Yeah, but look at it this way… you weren't feeling it anymore – your relationship with him. Staying with him so that he wouldn't get his heart broken would have just made you and eventually him, completely miserable," Snow explained. "Love shouldn't be a chore," she sagely concluded, the romantic in her palpable.

Elena laughed and pulled Snow toward her for a tight hug, "You gotta cut down on the romance novels, Snow."

"_Hey_! I may read a teeny weeny bit too much, but _that_, everything I told you was all _me_," Snow indignantly pressed both hands against her chest, her expression genuine.

Since she had taken an extra shift the afternoon before the party at the woods, Roy insisted that she take the day off, so after school, Elena and Snow stopped at the Grill to meet up with Bonnie and Caroline, both of whom were busy with inane chitchat while they sorted through the pamphlets for the comet.

The arrival of the comet was being made into a spectacle in Mystic Falls and nobody…_nobody_ was more excited than Snow Silverstone.

"I can't _wait_ for the comet! It's going to be so beautiful. And romantic. And _epic_! Makes me wish I had a boyfriend to share the night with… it would have been _perfect_ for a night of romance," Snow sighed dreamily, her eyes sparkling with wistfulness.

"You are such a sappy romantic, Snow," Bonnie shook her head.

Caroline and Elena laughed in agreement.

"All right, laugh at me for all I care. So I'm a romantic at heart, _so what_? When all your boyfriends end up running _to me_ for advice on planning you girls a romantic getaway, we'll see who's laughing then. You three will be _eternally grateful_, that's all I'm gonna say," Snow stuck her tongue out at her three sisters, their amusement skyrocketing.

"Anyways, now that Little Miss Dreamer here is done, let me tell you what my Grams said about the comet. _Apparently_ it was a sign of impending doom. The last time it passed over Mystic Falls, there was lots of death. So much blood and carnage, it created a bed of paranormal activity," Bonnie recited Grams' speech verbatim.

Frowning at the Bennett Matriarch's ominous words, and Bonnie's unwitting attempt to ruin her romantic view of the comet's arrival, Snow shivered and rubbed her arms, "Don't be so morbid, Bon. It's probably just a coincidence. Or some old wives' tale. You shouldn't take everything Grams says so seriously."

The blonde vigorously bobbed her head, her curls bouncing wildly. "Yeah, and then you poured Grams another shot and she told you about aliens," Caroline scoffed before flickering her baby blues at Elena; she was more interested in her brand-new love-life with Stefan Salvatore than all the doom and gloom emanating from Bonnie. "So then what?" she demanded in an impatient tone.

"So then nothing," Elena shrugged, only succeeding in receiving an irritated eye roll from the blonde.

"You and Stefan talked all last night? There was no sloppy first kiss or touchy feely of any kind," Caroline prompted, her demeanor highly cynical.

Snow shook her head. She loved Care, but sometimes, she felt like the blonde didn't have a romantic bone in her body with her tendency to make every interaction with the male race physical.

"Nope. We didn't go there," Elena revealed proudly. When she was dating Matt, they were rarely ever seen without their lips glued to each other, so she was proud of her restraint and more than happy with her decision to take a leaf out of Snow's romantic novel and take things slow with Stefan.

"Not even a handshake?" a distressed Caroline blurted out, her tone laced with a hint of desperation. "I mean, Elena, we are your friends. _Ok_? You are supposed to _share_ the smut."

"Yeah, let us-" and here, Snow pointed a finger at herself, Caroline and then Bonnie, "-live vicariously through you."

Elena responded with a mock glare, "We just talked for hours."

"Ok, _what is with the blockage_? Just jump his bones already! Ok, it's easy. Boy likes girl, girl likes boy: _sex_!" Caroline threw her arms in the air, her tone identical to that a teacher would use when explaining one plus one equals two to an exceptionally dense child.

Elena gave her a dry look, "Profound." A moment later, she shot to her feet.

"Where are you going?" a bewildered Bonnie inquired.

"Caroline's right. It is easy. If I sit here long enough, I'll end up talking myself out of it instead of doing what I started the day saying I was going to do. You wanna come with, Snow?" Elena offered, smiling kindly at the raven-haired girl.

Her expression impassive, Snow raised a delicate eyebrow at the perky brunette, "You want _me_ to go with _you _to watch you and Stefan suck each other's faces off?" Before any more words could be traded however, the door swept open and Haisley and Paisley entered the Grill. Violet orbs widened significantly at the evil duo and she quickly slid her way out of the booth, nearly falling on her ass in the process. "On second thought, let's go! _Move, move, move_," she hissed, drawing an amused smile out of Elena and laughter from Caroline and Bonnie.

Ten minutes later, Elena parked on the sidewalk across the Salvatore Boarding House, and the two girls crossed the road. They stared at the front door for a while. "You think Mr. Salvatore's in?" Snow asked, referring to Zach Salvatore. The man was such a recluse, preferring to stay behind the closed doors of his huge, ostentatious-looking house that if he wasn't part of the Founding Families, and if Carol Lockwood hadn't been successful in forcing him to attend a few of the town's events, neither girl would have known about his existence.

Shrugging, Elena squared her shoulders and promptly knocked on the door. Her fist however, barely touched the door when it creaked open in slow motion, which generated an eerie sound that resonated through them in a disturbing manner, and elicited goosebumps from the violet-eyed girl. Elena and Snow traded looks of uncertainty, and when Elena bravely took a step forward, Snow reached out and grabbed her wrist in a tight, almost bruising grip. "Are you _crazy_, this is like, how _every_ scary movie starts!" she hissed, eyes wide in fear.

Rolling her eyes, Elena allowed her friend to continue cutting the blood circulation in her hand and simply tugged Snow alongside her and into the warmth of the Boarding House, "Don't be dramatic Snow- _ARGH_!"

A crow – one that looked suspiciously like the one that nearly had the girls involved in a car accident a few days back – soared past the two girls and into the house. They violently spun on their feet to see a tall and _stunning_ man stare at them, a wicked smirk on his face. Strangely, the crow was nowhere to be seen, almost as though it had dissolved into thin air, or transformed into the handsome stranger.

Snow shook the thought away… _maybe she should follow her friends' advice and cut down on the fiction novels and thriller movies_.

"_I told you_!" Snow hissed, and her grip, if possible became tighter, prompting Elena to flinch. "Sorry," she murmured in a barely audible tone before loosening her grip.

Looking the stranger over, Snow had to admit, he was really gorgeous; he had pale skin – though a couple shades darker than her unique white-as-snow complexion, and his hair was as dark and as black as the sky during midnight, his eyes were an odd, though entrancing, shade of electric-blue that enraptured whosoever happened to be on their receiving end of. All in all, he was definitely swoon-worthy.

_Whoa!_

"I-I'm, _we're_ sorry for barging in. The door was… _open_," Elena trailed off in disbelief when she looked over her shoulder at the front door, only to discover it was actually closed. Once again, Snow's hand tightened on her wrist.

"You must be Elena. I'm Damon, Stefan's brother," the handsome stranger, Damon, spoke in a voice that bore a resemblance to honey.

"Stefan's brother?" Snow asked dubiously, and when Damon nodded, she reiterated her previous thoughts, "So… not some psycho serial killer that will like, hack our heads off if we try to run away?"

Elena rolled her eyes at her friend's dramatics – she seriously watched an unhealthy amount of thriller movies. On the other hand, Damon looked incredibly amused at the girl's words, and a genuine laugh left his lips. "Nope, no psycho serial killers here… And you are?"

_Ah, the irony…_ he thought to himself, a secretive smirk forming on his lips.

"Um, Snow. Snow Silverstone," she blushed profusely under the full weight of his attention. She really needed to cut down on the movies. It was either too much romance novels and fairy tales, or _way_ too many horror movies.

"Hmm," Damon looked intrigued. "I thought the Silverstone's died out."

She awkwardly waved a hand, "Uh, well, nope, still here." Technically, she was the last Silverstone left, but he didn't need to know that. She didn't need to see any more pitying looks or hear more whispers about her being the poor little orphan, she already had enough on her plate with the whole Cinderella name-calling by her evil stepsisters.

Elena, bless her soul, distracted Damon from her, "Stefan never told me he had a brother."

"Well, Stefan's not one to brag," he drawled out, his tone cocky. "Please, come. I'm sure Stefan will be back any second." He beckoned them further into the house, stopping when they reached the living room. Elena's jaw dropped, her eyes examining the interior in wonder, "Wow. This is your living room?"

"Living room, parlor, Sotheby's auction. It's a little kitschy for my taste. I see why my brother's so smitten. It's about time. For a while there, I never thought he'd get over the last one. Nearly destroyed him."

Elena looked at Damon in confusion, "The last one?"

"Yeah, Katherine, his girlfriend? _Oh_, you two haven't had the awkward exes' conversation yet," Damon cringed at his faux-pas, though internally, he was celebrating.

Attempting to look unaffected, the brunette folded her arms against her chest and compressed her lips, "Nope." She failed, though, and Snow couldn't help but wince and immediately rise to Stefan's defense. "Well you two haven't been together for two days, Lena. I think it's a bit too soon to have the ex-conversation, don't ya think?" Snow smiled sweetly at the brunette, who beamed back – that girl always knew the right thing to say.

Damon, however, was furious at Snow's interference – the girl managed to ruin phase one of his plan B with nary a thought. "Oops. Well I'm sure it'll come up now. Or maybe he didn't want to tell you because he didn't want you to think he was on the rebound. We all know how those relationships end," Damon wasn't one to give up easily.

Elena frowned at him, "You say that like every relationship is doomed to end."

Yeah, Snow didn't like his observation on love. Maybe she should let him borrow one of her romance novels…

"I'm a fatalist. Hello, Stefan," a charming smile suddenly materialized on Damon's face, and although he addressed his brother, his gaze never once detached from Elena. Simultaneously, Snow and Elena swiveled in their spot, the former smiling brightly at the sight of the brown-haired boy, believing he would remedy the situation and instill calmness into the room, as the aura Damon Salvatore radiated had her on edge.

However, Stefan appeared to be as tense as her. He never took his eyes off Damon, his expression impassive and eyes cold, "Elena. I didn't know you were coming over."

"She would have called, but she wanted to surprise you," Snow tried covering for Elena. Jeez, it was now made perfectly clear to Snow, that Stefan and his brother had a strained relationship; she could practically taste the tension in the room and she felt even more uncomfortable, her eyes flickering every few seconds to the front door.

"Oh, don't be silly. You're both welcome any time. Aren't they, Stefan? You know, I should break out the family photo albums or some home movies," Damon smirked. "But… I have to warn you. He wasn't always such a looker."

Snow chuckled weakly and she sidled closer to Elena, the brunette instantly wounding an arm around her sensitive friend.

"Thank you for stopping by Elena, Snow. Nice to see you," it was clear a dismissal from Stefan's end.

The girls traded a silent glance. "Yeah, we should probably go. It was nice to meet you Damon," Elena looped arms with Snow who, despite her comfort, kindly turned to part the elder Salvatore brother with a small wave.

"Great meeting you Elena, and _you too_, Snow," Damon smirked at their retreating backs, his eyes bright and calculating.

Their path was blocked by Stefan, who was too busy glaring daggers at his smirking brother. Exchanging bewildered looks, Snow bravely cleared her throat, "Uh, Stefan?" Snow was honestly freaked out and was thankful for Elena, who kept a tight hold on her.

"Stefan? _Stefan_!" Elena raised her voice, finally succeeding in grabbing his attention and getting him to open their escape route.

The girls immediately jumped into Elena's jeep. "Let's get the hell of dodge, Elena. Hit the gas," Snow snapped. The brunette floored the gas pedal, allowing the dark-haired girl to breathe easily when the Salvatore Boarding House disappeared from the rearview mirror.

"What the hell _was_ that?" Elena snapped, hurt at Stefan's cold behavior after having decided to take a risk and put herself out there for him.

"It's obvious those brothers have serious issues, Lena. So much unresolved tension in that house! And here I thought my relationship with the evil stepsisters was bad. Those two have got _major_ issues," Snow's hands were shaking with nerves – she didn't deal well in tension-filled situations.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Snow had made herself at home, sitting comfortably in the Gilbert's kitchen with Elena and her awesome aunt Jenna, a warm cup of tea cradled in her hands for relaxing purposes. Anybody that had intimate knowledge of Snow knew that one warm cup of tea would work wonders on her when she was tensed, nervous, in tears, or freaked out.

"He's on the rebound and has _raging_ family issues," Elena was currently ranting at Jenna about their awkward run-in with Stefan and Damon at the Boarding house.

"Hold up, family issues, yes, but no one said you were a rebound, Elena. Damon was obviously trying to plant seeds of doubt in your head," Snow adamantly disclosed, confident that her theory was true. She could tell that Stefan _really_ liked Elena, just like Snow recognized most of Damon's words had underlying meanings – she was positive that the elder Salvatore was attempting to stir up trouble for Stefan and she wasn't about to let her best friend fall victim to his whatever grudge he held.

Jenna emitted a noncommittal hum. "_And_ at least its' an ex-girlfriend. Wait till you date a guy with mommy issues or cheating issues. …Or amphetamine issues," she proceeded to tick fingers down as she stampeded through her list.

Snow blinked, fixating her doe-like eyes at Jenna in shock, "Wow, Jenna. You see, this-, _this_ is _exactly_ _why_ I'm waiting for Mr. Right to come along instead of trying my luck with just about any guy that asks me out."

"But sweetie, sometimes experience is good. Besides, how do you know you haven't already rejected your Mr. Right?" Jenna inquired, smiling over at the kind-hearted, idealistic girl.

She fervently shook her head, "Believe me, _I'd know_. There would've been sparks or-or butterflies fluttering in my stomach. _Something_!"

"So… not Damon?" Elena clarified, looking curiously at Snow – he was, after all _really_ gorgeous, and from what little she had seen of him, he was a perfect candidate, one that would help Snow get out of her shell and stand up for herself around others.

"Yeah, definitely not," Snow frantically shook her head. "I didn't feel _anything_ at all around him. Zero. Nada. Zilch," she made weird hand movements to express her point.

The front door opened, and the three women looked over to see Jeremy trudging up the stairs, completely ignoring the three sets of eyes fixated on him.

"Jeremy? _Jeremy_, where were you?" Jenna looked furious, like she had turned on a switch from happy to mad. Jeremy sighed loudly, his head turning a fraction to confront his aunt, "More stoner stories? Look, Jenna, I get it, you were cool. And so that's… that's cool."

No one failed to notice he was slurring his words.

When Jeremy continued to ascend the stairs, Jenna lost it. "Oh, no, no, no!" an apple soared through the air, colliding with the back of Jeremy's head.

"Bull's-eye," Snow whispered in Elena's ear, prompting her to giggle.

"_Ow_!" Jeremy massaged the back of his head, his visage resembling a wounded puppy as he glanced over at Jenna. "Why? Why… _why_ did you do that?" he whined, slightly bewildered.

"Listen up! Quit ditching class or you're grounded. No discussion." There was an air of finality in Jenna's tone, but Jeremy merely smirked at her, "Parental authority, I like it. Sleep tight."

Jenna turned to gape at Elena and Snow, shaking her head in a combination of shock and exasperation.

"I'm sure it's just a phase. Give him some time and he'll be back to the old Jeremy in no time," Snow smiled positively at the aunt and niece.

* * *

Snow was at the Grill, cleaning after a rambunctious family who had left quite a mess upon their departure. Hearing a slight commotion, she glanced to her right and her expression brightened tremendously. In her exuberance, she tossed the rag and ran over to the older girl, immediately drawing her into a crushing embrace, "_Vicki_!You're okay. I've been _so_ worried."

Vicki smiled widely at the snow-kissed girl, "I'm fine, sweetie, and I'm back for work. I'll see you later 'kay? I gotta go argue with Roy about my schedule." With one last squeeze, she disappeared behind the backdoor. Snow couldn't help but giggle after her retreating back; Vicki was the only person that never pointed fingers at her or treated her differently because of Roy's blatant favoritism.

Throughout her shift, Snow couldn't help but observe Jeremy from afar, watching as he made an attempt to covertly hand Vicki some pills. A part of her wanted to drag him by the ear, berate him and then cuff him on the head, in hopes of smacking some sense back into him; however, the other part that intimately knew about grief and of how it could change a person wanted to leave him be and allow him to get over his phase on his own. The latter part won.

"Is your neck any better?" Snow inquired when Vicki joined her side. She had always been curious by nature, and had been itching to ask about the confession she made regarding vampires; unfortunately, she was too shy. While she was close with Vicki due to them being co-workers and pseudo-sisters, as well as being childhood friends with Matt, their bond wasn't as close or comfortable or intimate as the bond she shared with Elena, Bonnie, and Caroline.

Her face compressed into a frown as she rubbed at her bandaged neck. "Ugh, hurts like a bitch, but Jeremy gave me something to help," Vicki flashed a smile over at Jeremy. Snow bit her tongue, not wanting to anger Vicki or Jeremy by mentioning the exchange of pills.

Tyler approached them at that moment, his dark eyes intent on Vicki, "Hey, Vick. How are you feeling?"

The girl in question narrowed her eyes at him, a sneer materializing on her face. She looked him over and scoffed, "Like you care." Vicki then proceeded to push past him, eliciting a look of disbelief to grace Tyler's features. "What are you lookin' at?!" he barked.

Startled, Snow jumped, her doe eyes blinking at the volatile, temperamental boy, "N-nothing, I'm sorry about you and Vicki, uh, I'm just gonna-" A groan escaped her, cutting off her lame stuttering, at the sight of none other than Joshua Reeves and his pack of friends as they strode into the Grill like they owned the place. Usually when Joshua hung at the Grill, Vicki always took his order since they were both seniors and on amicable terms with each other – that arrangement worked well for Snow since he had developed a creepy and frankly, unhealthy obsession with her. However, Vicki recently stormed off in an angry fit, and was most probably hiding out in the backroom until Tyler left, therefore leaving her on her own...

"You okay, Silverstone?" Tyler frowned. Nodding, Snow steeled herself and flashed him a tight-lipped smile before she approached their table to collect their orders.

She avoided his intense gaze and remained professional the entire time. Thankfully, everything was going swimmingly… that is, it was until she _literally_ walked into Joshua as he was coming out of the bathroom. "Let go of me, Joshua," Snow made a desperate attempt to sound brave, but it only came out as a whining plea. This would never happen to any of her friends, because _unlike her_, they had a backbone, while she was as shy as a mouse… and pathetic.

"You know, if you're with me, you'd never have to work again," Joshua caressed her cheek, making her flinch away from his hand.

"I don't need your money and I'd rather stay poor than be with you," Snow snapped, surprising not only Joshua, but herself. Her eyes widened in shock. _Where did that backbone come from?_ "Uh, er, um, I-I mean-" she stuttered and Joshua's grip on her became painfully tight.

Suddenly Tyler's menacing voice boomed from behind. "Is there a problem here?" Completely startled, not having expected the interruption, Joshua reflexively released her. Immensely grateful, Snow hurried to his side and hid herself behind Tyler's bulky frame, all the while, she shook in fear.

"No," Joshua spat through gritted teeth, his eyes traveling from Tyler's cold expression and his protective stance, to Snow, her expressive violet eyes moist with fear. "Nothing at all. I guess we'll have to continue our little chat some other time, Snow."

Once Joshua was out of hearing range, Tyler turned to Snow, an eyebrow arched. "What was that about? Was that dick bothering you?" he demanded.

Needing a distraction, Snow ignored her quivering hands and worked on the apron from around her waist since her shift had officially ended. Emitting a nervous laugh, Snow averted his eyes, unable to meet Tyler's intense, and quite frankly, intimidating stare. They were friends in the sense that they hung out with the same clique, knew the same people, and grew up around each other, but they never really had a proper conversation before – so, in other words, Snow and Tyler were considered merely acquaintances.

"Joshua's always been bothering me, it's been two years now… i-it's ok, don't worry about it," she internally winced – she had always been a _horrible_ liar. She couldn't lie to save a life.

Tyler didn't seem to believe her. Snow was too nice for her own good, and despite the fact they never had a decent conversation, he could tell as much. "Mmhmm," he sounded incredibly skeptic. "If you say so. Anyways I'm heading over to Square for the comet. Let me at least walk you there."

Surprised by his kindness, Snow gave him her special megawatt smile, "Thanks Tyler."

"Snow! Tyler! There you two are, come over here, I got some candles," Caroline's excited yell could be clearly heard over the mass of Mystic Falls denizens, and Snow couldn't help but giggle slightly. Caroline's happiness was really contagious.

Tyler joined Matt who was gazing sadly at Elena and Stefan. Caroline and Bonnie stayed by Snow's side as they kept their eyes up at the heavens, candles lit in their hands. Once the candles had burnt out, the three girls went to Mystic Grill and sat at their regular table. Snow noticed Joshua and his friends were still there, but she kept her eyes averted, not wanting another confrontation with him.

"Hey, Lena, why aren't you with Stefan?" Snow hoped the two weren't fighting. Curious, Bonnie and Caroline leaned over. "He said he'd come by later," Elena beamed.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't _Cinderella_," an obnoxious voice permeated the air, prompting the four girls to swivel their heads to see Haisley and Paisley stride in with identical sneers on their ugly faces, grabbing a table with their friends.

"Shouldn't you be at home, _cleaning_," Haisley chuckled.

Snow looked down at her hands, her face turning pink. Her friends glared angrily at the twins.

"Hey, step-bitches, leave her alone!" Caroline snarled.

Caroline had dubbed Haisley and Paisley 'step-bitches' for as long as she could remember and the name stuck with her friends whenever they mentioned them, while Snow continued to call them her evil stepsisters.

Haisley and Paisley glared at her but smartly kept their mouths shut. They may be dumb, but they weren't dumb _enough_ to provoke Caroline Forbes, so they settled on sending Snow an evil glare, and ignored them.

"Thanks Care," Snow mumbled. The blonde responded with a tight hug, "Hey, that's what friends are for."

"You really need to start standing up to them, Snow," Bonnie stated emphatically while Elena nodded in agreement. Snow just nodded, knowing that she would never be able to.

Thankfully, a distraction in the form of Jeremy arrived, who frantically yelled, "Hey, has anyone seen Vicki?"

"You're her stalker. You tell us," Tyler, who was sitting on the bar with Matt, retorted snidely

Jeremy glared at him. "I can't find her!" he spat out through gritted teeth. Tyler looked unconcerned, and he shrugged a shoulder. "She probably found somebody else to party with. Sorry, pill pusher, I guess you've been replaced," he mocked.

Bemused, Elena's eyes flickered between Jeremy and Tyler, "What's with the pill pusher?"

"Ask him," was all Tyler said, jutting his chin toward Jeremy, his onyx orbs burning with dislike.

Snow gulped, this didn't look good and to make things worse, the tension in the Grill was escalating.

"You wanna do this right now?" Jeremy got in Tyler's face, his expression the epitome of furious.

Realization suddenly dawned on Elena, and she gasped, "Are you dealing?"

Jeremy however, ignored her in favor for the staring contest he had instigated with Tyler who spat, "She's never going to go for you." That comment prompted a scoff out of the Gilbert boy, "She already did. Over and over _and over_ again." His lips curved into a smug smile at the shocked look of disbelief that made a startling appearance on Tyler's face.

"You slept with _Vicki Donovan_?" Caroline scoffed, intrigued with this new bit of gossip. "I mean, Vicki Donovan slept with _you_?"

"There is no way," Tyler shook his head, stubbornly in denial.

"And I didn't even have to _force her_ into it," Jeremy pointedly added that slip of information, his eyes flickering between Matt and Tyler, the latter of whom nervously looked away. Blue eyes narrowing, Matt suspiciously glared at his best friend, "What the hell is he talking about, Ty?"

Shaking his head, Tyler spat out, "Nothing, man, just ignore him, he's a punk."

It seemed that Matt had had enough. "You know what, how about all of you shut up and help me find my sister?"

They split up to look for Vicki. Snow checked the back with Caroline and Bonnie and nearly a full hour had passed before Vicki turned up at the Grill. As it turned out, Stefan had been the one to find her wandering throughout the Town Square looking a little out of it, which they instantly blamed on the pills.

"Ugh, it's just so much drama. Ever notice how the druggies are the biggest attention whores?" Caroline blurted out in disgust as she, Snow and Bonnie sat at their table in the Grill after the search party for Vicki was called off.

"Well, it's not like she asked for an animal to attack her the other day, so that wasn't exactly her fault," Snow shrugged, coming up to Vicki's defense.

Bonnie smiled fondly at Snow; ever the defender. "Yeah."

"Excuse me. Hi."

The three girls looked up to see Stefan standing before them with a pleasant smile on his handsome face.

The snow-kissed girl beamed up at him. "Hey, Stefan," Snow greeted him with a wave. Stefan smiled back at her, and she was glad he wasn't mad about the whole Damon confrontation anymore; he looked like his normal friendly self. "Um, have you guys seen Elena?" he inquired.

"I think she went home," Bonnie riffled through her purse for a pen and promptly scribbled on a napkin at their table. "I'm gonna give you Elena's cell number and her email. She is _big_ on texting, and you can tell her, 'I said so.'"

"Thank you," Stefan laughed.

Bonnie gave him the napkin, but as their fingers brushed against each other, she blanked out, her eyes protruding slightly before her mouth finally opened and emitted a gasp.

"You ok?" Stefan asked, concerned.

"Bon?" Caroline frowned in confusion while Snow lightly shook her shoulder.

The caramel-skinned gazed at Stefan with glassy eyes, horror etched on her features. "What happened to you?" Caroline and Snow looked at Bonnie in shock. As though awakening from her trance, Bonnie shook her head and gave him a slightly apologetic look, "That's so rude. I'm sorry. Excuse me." She got up to leave.

"_Whoa_! Wait, you're my ride. See you tomorrow, Care. Bye Stefan!" Snow quickly followed Bonnie's previous footsteps, a sigh of relief escaping her upon finding her best friend waiting for her in the car. "I thought you forgot about me," she laughed. Bonnie just shook her head and kept her lips clamped shut. Snow didn't say another word, deciding that she would ask about her weird behavior when she saw her the next day since she wasn't in a talkative mood.

As Snow headed to her room, she almost bumped into Lucille. What was with her and bumping into people these last few days?

"So, you finally made it. And before midnight, I see," Lucille stated, her tone cold and sardonic. Snow responded with a quick nod. Lucille just smiled at her, the expression lacking any warmth, "At least you seem to be smart enough not to test me. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Snow whispered forlornly, entering her room and softly closing the door behind her before she grabbed her pajamas and put them on.

She couldn't wait to graduate next year. She was counting the days before she'd be able to finally leave Lucille and her evil stepsisters behind and never look back, whether it was with or without her trust fund. Although, having been assured by the family's attorney that her father's will was ironclad, she wasn't worried about affording university.

The thought of Lucille finding a way to get rid of her before her eighteenth birthday came to pass never, not even for a split-second, crossed Snow's mind as she drifted off into a restful sleep.

* * *

"_**Hello, Brother.**_**"**

"_**I promised you an eternity of misery, so I'm just keeping my word.**_**"**

"_**You should know better than to think you're stronger than me. You lost that fight when you stopped feeding on people.**_**"**

"_**We both know the closest you'll ever get to humanity is when you rip it open and feed on it.**_**"**

"_**Your choice of lifestyle has made you weak. A couple of vampire parlor tricks is nothing compared to the power that you could have, that you now need. But you can change that. Human blood gives you that.**_**"**

"_**You have two choices. You can feed and make her forget. Or you can let her run, screaming "vampire" through the town square.**_**"**

_**Damon Salvatore**_

* * *

**A/N:**** What do you think about this story? I'm trying to add some changes and I have loads of ideas, but in the beginning it's really hard since the action has barely started. What did you think about the step-bitches, Lucille and Joshua? They will be regular OCs for now.**

**Please let me know what you think. How are you liking Snow? What's your thoughts on Lucille, the twins and Joshua?**

**Did you like the interaction between Damon and Snow?**

**R&R.**


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:**** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters, ideas and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

_**CHAPTER 3:**_

**STOLEN KISSES**

* * *

**Kiss (**_**verb**_**): touch or caress with the lips as a sign of love, sexual desire, or greeting**

"_**A kiss always means something.**_**"**

"_**True Love's Kiss? It's the most powerful thing in the world.**_**"**

"_**One day you will kiss a man you can't breathe without, and find that breath is of little consequence.**_**"**

"_**I've been dreaming of a true love's kiss and a prince I'm hoping comes with this. So to spend a life of endless bliss, just find who you love through true love's kiss.**_**"**

* * *

As was becoming the latest tradition in the Silverstone household, Lucille waylaid Snow on her way out the front door, threatening to make her late for school, "Snow, stop right there! A word!"

Praying to God to give her patience, Snow pivoted around and plastered a timid smile onto her face as she obediently approached the step-monster. "Yes, Lucille?" she tucked a loose strand behind her ear and met the older woman's muddy-green gaze.

"You're to go grocery shopping the moment school lets you out. Then you are going to come straight here and cook a large spread. I am having a few guests over for dinner, and I want _everything_ to be _perfect_, do you understand?" Lucille sneered, looking at Snow in disgust. She loved talking down at her, as though she were a dense child who needed to have every little thing spelt out for her. "I already called that manager of yours at the Grill. You'll have to work a double shift tomorrow."

Meekly, Snow nodded, "Is there anything you prefer I get for dinner tonight?"

"I want it to be French-oriented…" Contemplating, she steepled her fingers and lifted her gaze upwards, "How about Coq Au Vin, hmm? And a nice rum cake with fresh strawberries and cream. I am sure I don't have to remind you to make a delightful salad, _do I_?" Lucille glared at her. "Also, the number is approximately ten, but be generous."

"No, no, I'll-I'll get right on it after school," Snow whispered. Sadly, she was used to being Lucille, Haisley and Paisley's maid and granting their every whim. She had to learn how to cook and clean up after them and obey their every command before her tenth birthday.

"And…" Lucille turned around as she was making her way out, "I want you _gone_ before the guests arrive. Don't want to have your presence staining the room. They are not from town and my daughters shall be in attendance. They know _nothing_ about your _filthy_ existence."

Hoping Lucille wasn't about to make her pay out of her own wages, Snow timidly spoke up, "Um, Lucille, what about the money?"

"Tell them to put it on my tab, you _stupid girl_!" Lucille snapped in a cold and downright condescending tone.

Nodding, Snow practically ran out of the house and into Bonnie's car, and as usual, she was repressing the urge to break down into tears at the unfairness of her life and at Lucille's unwarranted cruelty. "You'll _never_ believe what the step-monster's making me do," she groaned the second she slammed the passenger door shut.

Bonnie threw Snow a side-glance, "Why do I have a feeling it's not good?"

"Because it's Lucille. Nothing about her _is_ good. She called Roy and told him I can't make it to work today so now I have to work a double shift tomorrow. And that's not all. She's making me go to the market after school and get groceries for a dinner she's hosting tonight that I have to slave over for."

In a deadpanned voice, Bonnie said, "Let me guess… a dinner you're not allowed to attend."

"_Bingo_!" Snow sang as Bonnie deftly parked in the parking lot of Mystic Falls High.

"I. _cannot_. _stand._ Lucille Silverstone! I mean, who the _hell_ does she think she is, bossing you around the house as if you're some sort of high-classed maid," Bonnie hissed, practically spitting acid. Calming down, a sad sigh emanated from Bonnie's lips and she placed a comforting arm around her docile friend.

A barely audible grumble of protest vibrated in her throat. "High-classed? More like lowly servant, Bon. High-classed maids get paid and are shown respect. I'm lacking those and more… Whatever, I'll just get it over with then head to the Grill or something," she shook her head and forced a smile onto her face, not wanting to think about her atrocious home life during her limited hours of freedom. "Hey Elena," she smiled weakly as the brunette joined them.

"What's up, why do you look so down?" Elena's eyes brimmed with concern. Snow was usually happy once she escaped her home and got away from Lucille's unwavering, judgmental gaze. "Long story, we'll explain later, but I need to talk to you about something," Bonnie gave Elena a solemn look, prompting the brunette to adopt a baffled expression. "I think you and Stefan should take it slow."

"What?" Snow gaped at Bonnie, wholly taken aback. "Weren't you the main one pushing her and Stefan to date already?"

Elena nodded in agreement to Snow's words, completely bemused at Bonnie's unexpected change of attitude concerning Stefan Salvatore. After all, Bonnie was the first one to notice him, and the one responsible for giving him Elena's contact information.

"I'm not saying _don't date the guy_. I'm just saying _take it slow_," Bonnie enunciated slowly, her voice taking a defensive note.

Suspicious, Elena squinted at Bonnie, "Why the about-face?"

"It's not an about-face. You're single for the _first time_ in your _entire_ high school career. It's the perfect time to play the field," Bonnie donned an innocent expression that neither Elena nor Snow bought. Not even for a split-second. Bonnie Bennett was hiding something from them…

"But she's not that girl," Snow rolled her eyes, her tone matter-of-fact, like she was simply discussing the weather. Repeating her previous actions, Elena nodded in agreement to Snow's words and squinted at Bonnie, "Exactly! Like I'm _so_ that girl. Seriously, what are you not saying, Bonnie?"

"It's stupid," Bonnie shook her head.

Like a light bulb moment, Snow suddenly recalled the weird incident that transpired last night between Bonnie and Stefan at the Grill before the former ran out, completely spooked, as though the place was on fire or she had seen a ghost. "Is it about what happened last night after you gave him Elena's number and email when you totally weirded out on us?" Snow asked.

Bonnie stubbornly looked anywhere but at her two best friends as they gave her questioning looks. Elena huffed, having had enough with all the secrecy, "Spit it out, Bonnie."

"Okay, so just like Snow said, I accidentally touched Stefan. And I got a _really_ bad feeling," Bonnie shrugged, but her eyes belied how disturbed she actually was.

"Is that it?" Elena and Snow intoned, gaping at Bonnie incredulously.

Desperate to prove her point and gain her friends' confidence, Bonnie emphasized, "It was _bad_, bad!"

"Is this the whole witchy mojo again?" Elena glanced unsurely at Bonnie. Snow could tell that whatever Bonnie felt, whether it was true or not, she was completely freaked out. Nobody can fake such emotions, and Snow was officially concerned for her friend.

"You know what? I'm just concerned. This is me. _expressing concern._ about my best friend's new boyfriend," Bonnie snapped, peeved.

"And I love you for it. _I do_. But I feel good. It's been a hard year, and I'm starting to kind of feel like things are getting back to normal again. And you know what? Stefan is a _big_ part of that," Elena emphatically confessed.

"Yeah, I like Stefan, and he's been really good for Lena, Bon," Snow smiled at her friends, squeezing Bonnie's hand reassuringly. Just then, Stefan approached them. "Good morning Elena. Good morning Snow. Good morning Bonnie."

Snow beamed at him, "Hey Stefan!"

Fidgeting at her close proximity to the brown-haired boy, Bonnie turned to leave, "Hey, um, I gotta find Caroline. She's not answering her phone. So I'll see you guys later." And she left the three of them to stare at her retreating back.

"Bonnie, wait…" Elena trailed off, dejected, when Bonnie was far from hearing range.

"She doesn't like me very much," Stefan stated.

"She doesn't know you. She's my best friend. She's just looking out for me. But when she does, she will love you. I mean, Snow's my other best friend and she _totally_ adores you," Elena smiled softly at him.

A chiming laugh erupted from the docile girl's lips, "Yeah, you're okay in my book."

"Here's what we're going to do. Are you free tonight?" Elena looked excited as she waited for Stefan to answer. Stefan nodded. "Perfect. Dinner, my house. Eight o'clock. You, me, Snow, and Bonnie. You two will spend some quality time and she'll get to see what a great guy you are. Mission accomplished," Elena declared ebulliently.

Suddenly, with no warning whatsoever, Stefan abruptly swerved his entire body, a ball clutched tightly between his hands. Looking further, Snow saw Tyler and Matt gaping at him, the former having purposely thrown it at Stefan while his back was turned. A frown of disapproval appeared on Snow's face – _cheap shot_.

Stefan however, appeared completely unbothered by Tyler's attempt to bully him. Instead, he stared at the ball in his hand and smirked before throwing it back at Tyler who seemed to have trouble catching it. In fact, the force of Stefan's throw had him staggering backward.

_Go, Stefan!_

If possible, Tyler and Matt's jaws further dropped in unmitigated shock.

"Wow, that throw was _insane_. You play football?" Snow gushed, in awe at the display that occurred before her very eyes.

Stefan shrugged nonchalantly, finding the genuine emotion in her violet eyes endearing, "I used to. It was a long time ago."

"So why don't you try out for the team?" Elena inquired brightly. Stefan automatically shook his head, "Yeah, I don't think so."

"So you don't like football?" Elena frowned as she looked at Stefan in thought.

"No, I love football. I think it's a great sport. But in this case, I don't think football likes me. You saw Tyler over there, and we know how Matt feels," Stefan shrugged, undisturbed.

"You should just ignore them, they're trying to haze you. To them, you're just mysterious loner guy," Snow grinned, shaking her head good-naturedly. "I'm going to leave you two and go find Bonnie or Caroline. _Bye_!"

After school, Snow went to the field where her fellow cheerleaders were warming up, knowing that Bonnie and Elena would be there.

"Snow, where's your uniform? Why aren't you dressed for cheer practice?" Bonnie asked once Snow approached them.

"I can't make it to practice today, Bon. Remember, I have that stupid dinner to make…" Snow trailed off, her smile sad. Bonne scowled at the reminder and inclined her head. "I need you to apologize to Care for me, tell her something came up with the step-monster, 'kay?"

"Good luck, Snow," Bonnie parted her with a warm smile.

* * *

Snow had slaved over dinner _for hours_ and as it turned out, the decision to skip cheer practice ended up being a smart call, for she had barely finished setting up the table – in the family silverware, to add more salt to the wound – when Lucille kicked her out as the guests were due to arrive any moment. If she hadn't skipped cheerleading practice then she would have been in huge trouble.

It was a thirty minute walk to Elena's, but Snow didn't mind. She sometimes enjoyed walking in solitude, her only company being the refreshing breeze as it hit her face, engulfed her form and calmed her thoughts. Of course, she knew to stay away from the woods, forests and empty alleys – words of caution that still reverberated in her head from her father. One memory that never left her regarding Stanley Silverstone, was his constant warnings to stay away from such locations, as dangerous animals lived there, slinking in the shadows, and were the sole reason behind the animal attacks that plagued Mystic Falls and its inhabitants.

Reaching the Gilberts, she smiled and cheerfully knocked on the front door. A night with her friends was just what the doctor prescribed after the exhausting afternoon she had. The door swung open and a beaming Elena drew her into a tight embrace, "You made it! We missed you at cheer practice."

"Long story, I'll explain later. Hey Bon." Bonnie, too, welcomed her with a hug, whispering a jovial "_you survived_" in her ear.

"So, what are we talking about?" Snow's eyes danced between Elena and Bonnie.

"Yes, I was just telling Elena about how today I am obsessed with numbers. Three numbers. I keep seeing 8, 14, and 22. How weird is that?" Bonnie looked weirded out by her words.

Sheepishly, Snow suggested, "Huh, the lottery, maybe?"

Elena snorted and bumped shoulders with the raven-haired girl, "Have you talked to your Grams?"

Bonnie rolled her eyes, "She's gonna say it's because I'm a witch. I don't want to be a witch. Do you want to be a witch?"

"I don't want to be a witch," Elena instantly shook her head. They both looked at Snow, expecting her to agree with them. However, the fair-skinned girl flashed them an impish smile, "I wouldn't mind being a witch. I mean, I would be able to get my step-monster and evil stepsisters off my back." In the blink of an eye, all mirth melted and Snow adopted a glum expression. Elena and Bonnie traded _a look_ before they engulfed her in a three-way bear hug, successfully managing to cheer her up.

The amazing thing about Snow Silverstone was that it didn't take much to make her happy; she was very down-to-earth and appreciated the simplest things in life. A small gesture of kindness could bring about a smile on her face that easily brightened up whatever room she occupied, which was why Snow's company was highly addictive and sought after.

"Okay serving spoons. Where are the serving spoons?" Elena changed the topic as she began to rummage through drawers at random. Bonnie instantly blurted out, "Middle drawer on your left."Opening said drawer, Elena slowly withdrew the serving spoons, prompting both her and Snow to stare at a speechless Bonnie in shock.

Letting out a nervous laugh, Elena came up with the first excuse that crossed her mind, hoping to mend the weirdness that settled in the kitchen, "Okay, so you've been in this kitchen like _a thousand times_." Snow decided to keep her mouth shut and swallow the fact that she had been in the kitchen plenty of times and till this day, she didn't memorize where the cutlery were located.

"Yeah, that's it," Bonnie didn't sound convinced, but the doorbell rang and Elena skipped off to open the door for Stefan. "Snow, what the hell was that?" she whispered, her eyes wide and tone terrified.

"Oh, come on, I'm sure it's nothing… I mean, okay…uh, birthday candles?" Snow rambled nervously. Reflexively, Bonnie turned and opened the third drawer to the right, and when she withdrew her trembling hand, a packet of birthday candles sat on it.

Speechless, Snow flashed her a comforting smile, "Ohh-_kay_, so I don't know. Let's just have dinner and think about it later. I'm sure it's nothing." Nodding, the two girls brought the food out to the dining room where Stefan and Elena were already seated.

"Did Tanner give you a hard time today?" Elena asked a few minutes into the dinner.

"Well, he let me on the team, so I must have done something right," Stefan chuckled, his stance humble.

"Oh my God, you made the team?! Congratulations, Stefan," Snow beamed, sincerely ecstatic for him.

"Bonnie, you should have _seen_ Stefan today, ask Snow. Tyler threw a ball right at him, and-"

Bonnie curtly cut Elena off, "Yeah, I heard."

Snow and Elena traded exasperated and annoyed looks, respectively. Snow decided it was best for her to mellow Bonnie out first, "Did Caroline make it to practice?" All day, Snow couldn't help but worry over Caroline's unnatural radio silence; the blonde never made it through the day without texting or calling her.

"Oh yeah, she came in late though," Bonnie nodded.

Elena gasped in remembrance, her expression giddy, "You'll never guess who Caroline is dating…" Trailing off, she waited until Snow raised an eyebrow in question before revealing the boyfriend's identity, "_Damon_."

"Get out! _Damon_, your _brother Damon_?" Snow asked Stefan, vehemently taken aback. _When did Caroline meet Damon_? Reluctantly, he nodded; and Snow realized that Stefan didn't appear pleased with recent events, and she couldn't help but wonder why. "Well I think it's wonderful. From what little I've seen of Damon, they seem compatible," she trilled.

"Hey, Bonnie, why don't you tell Stefan about your family?" Elena pressed; she was adamant that Bonnie like Stefan by the end of dinner.

In a bored, almost rehearsed tone, Bonnie drawled, "Um, divorced. No mom. Live with my dad."

"No, about the witches…" Elena squarely met Stefan's politely interested gaze, "Bonnie's family has a lineage of witches. It's really cool."

"Cool isn't the word I'd use," Bonnie scoffed abrasively.

"Well, it's certainly interesting. I'm not too versed, but I do know that there's a history of Celtic druids that migrated here in the 1800s," Stefan divulged. Bonnie stared at him for a moment, her stare almost measuring, "My family came by way of Salem."

"I'd say that's really cool. Salem witches are heroic examples of individualism and nonconformity," Stefan informed Bonnie, succeeding in bringing about a smile on her face.

_Success!_

Snow and Elena traded victorious smirks and low-fived each other under the table. Elena's spontaneous dinner plan was a brilliant idea after all. Their victory was interrupted by the doorbell as it resonated through them. A confused frown materialized on Elena's forehead, "I wonder who that could be." Abandoning her seat, she went to answer the door.

A few seconds later, Stefan abruptly departed the dining room, leaving Snow and Bonnie to stare at his retreating back in bewilderment before they too, joined them to see what the commotion was all about.

"_Snow_!"

At the exuberant yell, Snow turned around just in time for her vision to be blinded by blonde curls as Caroline engulfed her in a hug, her familiar perfume attacking her nose buds and calming her greatly – she had been _really_ worried over the blonde's disappearance and seeing her with her own two eyes knocked a huge weight off her shoulders.

"Hey Care," Snow beamed. "Oh, hi, Damon," she kindly added upon seeing the familiar dark-haired figure from over the blonde's shoulder.

"Hello Snow," Damon responded with a tight-lipped smile. He was staring at her oddly and trading looks with his brother, which she found kind of weird, but she ignored it as they congregated in the living room and made themselves comfortable on the sofa.

"Bonnie told me you couldn't make practice because of Lucille. What did she have you do now?" Caroline inquired chirpily, yet her eyes were serious, belying her tone.

Stefan and Damon looked a bit lost and Snow remembered that they were new to Mystic Falls and therefore ignorant to the Silverstone drama.

"Lucille Silverstone. She's my stepmother," she explained shortly. Stefan and Damon nodded in comprehension. "So anyways, I only told Bonnie this since we carpooled to school. Step-monster called me out before I left the house this morning and told me that after school I had to go to the market and get groceries since she's hosting a dinner party tonight for guests from out of town."

Angry, Elena snapped, "Are you serious? For how many people?"

"Ten," Snow revealed. "But she said to be _generous _in case anyone wanted seconds."

"And let me guess, you weren't invited," Caroline stated matter-of-factly, her expression taut.

Snow shook her head, "Nope. My evil stepsisters were, but since the guests were from out of town, they didn't know about me and Lucille wants it to stay that way."

"Wait, are you saying that your stepmother has you cook for them?" Stefan was confused; Snow was so nice and kind and soft-spoken, she didn't deserve to be treated poorly in her own home.

"Cook, only?" Elena scoffed in disgust.

"They also make her clean the whole house after them," Caroline growled, resembling an angry mama-bear.

"_And_, Lucille doesn't even give her an allowance, so Snow has to work her ass off and be home by midnight otherwise she'll be forced to sleep in the garden," Bonnie added in rage.

Metaphoric smoke could be seen emanating from Caroline's ears as she snapped, "Don't forget that the money is all Snow's. Her father left everything to her in his will."

While each girl said their piece in Snow's defense, Damon and Stefan gaped at them in shock, their eyes traveling from angry girl to angry girl.

"You guys, just forget about it, I'm, I'm used to it by now, it doesn't matter," Snow gave them a weak smile. The three girls shook their heads at her predictable nature.

"It _does matter_, Snow. You're treated horribly in your own house. Without you, they'd be rendered homeless and living in the streets, and instead of showing you gratitude, they're having you suffer and clean after them and pay for your own things. You have to walk if you leave your house when there are plenty of cars just sitting there in the garage, gathering dust," Elena exclaimed fiercely, throwing her friend a sympathetic look toward the end.

"Like I said, you have to stand up for yourself more often," Bonnie gave her a stern look.

Caroline's baby blues bored into Snow's violet orbs, "What did you make for dinner?"

"Watercress salad with apple slices and balsamic sauce, um, Coq Au Vin and Rum cake," Snow listed off, ignoring the incredulous looks she was on the receiving end of. She blushed at all the attention. "I'm going to go clean the dishes," she muttered.

"Uh, no you're not. I'll do it," Elena made to get up, but Snow beat her to the punch and grabbed everything within reach, all the while smiling at her friend. "I want to. You guys chill and talk, I'll be back. It'll just take a few minutes," as she delivered her words, they were spoken in a tone of finality, leaving no room for argument.

Snow always got lost in thought while washing the dishes, prompted by the soothing sound of running water, and therefore, she would always be susceptible to everything hidden in the back of her mind that she had stored away behind a lock and key. Mulling over her friends' words, she knew, with every fiber of her being, that her friends were right. If it weren't for her then the step-monster and her evil stepsisters would be homeless without a dime to their name. Instead, it was the other way around… Oh, how Snow wished she had the strength – the _backbone_! – to fight back and stand up for herself.

A tear made its way down her porcelain cheek, and she roughly brushed it off with her shoulder when a familiar honeyed voice spoke out from the kitchen door, "One more." Snow looked over her shoulder to see Damon approaching her, a glass in his hand.

"Oh, thanks!" Snow smiled timidly. Damon went to give it to her but purposely dropped it at the last second. Snow quickly went to catch it, but Damon utilized his fast reflexes and easily caught it. "Nice save," she breathed out a laugh.

"I like you," Damon stated, electric blue eyes glimmering with approval. "You know how to laugh. I can see that your friends really care about you."

Snow's cheeks reddened, "You're not so bad yourself. Um, not to sound rude or anything, but I heard a small tidbit of your conversation in the living room once I left. When you spoke of this girl you lost, did you mean… was it Katherine?"

Damon stepped a bit closer, his gaze intent and voice strained, "How did you know about Katherine?"

Snow shrugged as she grabbed the dishcloth and started drying the cutleries, "Elena."

"Hmm, well yes, I _was_ referring to Katherine."

"How did she die?" Snow inquired sadly.

"A fire. A tragic fire," was all Damon would say.

"Tell me about her," Snow encouraged gently.

Damon studied the mysterious girl curiously… She really was a puzzle; everything about her _screamed_ mystery. He believed he had everyone figured out. Everyone, but her. "And why would you want to know about her?" Damon couldn't help but ask, sounding mildly officious.

Her rosy lips tugged into a wistful smile, "I'm a sappy romantic. I either watch too many romance and horror movies, or read too many romance novels. I'm a sucker for everything and anything to do with love… I just, I thought it might be nice to hear about her."

The dark-haired Salvatore couldn't help but grin at her honesty; she was really something all right. "Katherine was, she was beautiful. A lot like you in that department," he couldn't help the arrogant smirk that curved his lips at the profuse blush his words evoked. He was a natural flirt and couldn't let the opportunity to make her blush pass him by. "She was also very complicated and selfish and, at times, not very kind, but very sexy and seductive."

"So which one of you dated her first?" Snow blurted out. Shocked at the alien surge of confidence that resonated through her, she let out a gasp and clapped a hand over her mouth. However, Damon wasn't annoyed by her audacity, in fact he laughed, seemingly amused by her. "Nicely deduced. Ask Stefan. I'm sure his answer differs from mine," he shrugged indifferently.

Confusion clouded her features and she cutely cocked her head to the side. "Can I ask you something?" Snow inquired hesitantly, not knowing or wanting to cross a line. Damon hummed his approval. "When you described Katherine to me, all I heard was her bad traits… I mean, other than the beautiful, sexy and seductive attributes… but that has to do with the outer beauty. What about her inner beauty? I mean, personality-wise, what drew you and Stefan in?" the violet-eyed girl curiously maintained eye contact with him as she awaited his answer.

Damon looked shocked as he stared at the enigmatic girl. No one had ever asked him that. Ever. _What drew him to her if all her traits were bad besides her looks_? He squarely met Snow's gaze and muttered, "I don't know… I just _did_, I suppose."

* * *

From a short distance away, Snow happily observed Stefan approach Elena with a boyish smile and present her a beautiful necklace before the game was scheduled to begin. Snow had done a double shift at the Grill for the breakfast and lunch hours so that she could make it to the game on time as it was her duty as acheerleader, and also because she enjoyed the sport and hated letting Caroline Forbes down.

"Hey Care, how come Elena isn't in uniform?" Snow asked Caroline as she approached her and Bonnie, both of whom were congregated with the other cheerleaders.

"She quit!" Caroline whined. "Can you believe it? After two years of being in the squad she just _ups and quits_."

"Death changes people sometimes," Snow shrugged, not particularly sharing Caroline's horror. In fact, she expected Elena to make a change in her life. Death prompted people to make life-altering decisions – not that _cheerleading_ was one, but it _was_ considered in some areas, high-school-suicide. Suddenly, her thoughts were interrupted by Stefan and Elena, her eyes widening in surprise when they crossed the field in a hurry and stopped by the sidelines where Tyler and Jeremy were involved in a brutal fist-fight.

_What the hell?!_

Abandoning the cheerleaders, Snow crossed the distance, desperate to help them, when a firm hand grabbed her, followed by a muscled arm wounding itself around her waist, the grip relentless, and before she knew it, she found herself being dragged over to the parking lot near the field with a hand over her mouth, muffling her screams. Next thing she knew, she was shoved backwards into a large tree and she looked up to see Joshua leering down at her.

She was officially terrified to death.

Snow whimpered. She was so _tired_ of him harassing her nearly every day. Dodging him on a daily basis was _exhausting_. "Joshua, wh-what the-? Leave me alone!" she cried.

"No! I've had it with you being a tease, especially now in your sexy, skimpy cheerleading outfit. I mean really, what do you expect from me!?" he growled, his hands tightening on the curves of Snow's waist, making it hard for her to breathe.

Her retort died in her throat as Joshua captured her plump, rosy lips with his. He proceeded to bite down on her lower lip until he drew blood, the act further exciting him and eliciting the eruption of a pained gasp from her. Taking advantage of her parted lips, he viciously plunged his tongue into her mouth. She could taste the alcohol in his breath and an undertone of something she couldn't put a name to that tasted foul and had her almost gagging. Joshua was extremely drunk, and Snow knew that alcohol made him volatile and unpredictable and, fearing the preservation of her virtue, tears began to form in her eyes.

Ignoring the fact that her body was shaking like a leaf in a tornado, Snow made multiple feeble attempts to shove him off her, but he was too strong and she was caged between him and the tree, therefore allowing her no hope of escaping on her own. Like rivulets, tears cascaded down her face and she whimpered in his mouth, her body shaking uncontrollably at the bleak situation she was trapped in. Joshua grinned at her, the curve of his lips downright evil, before he dipped his head and started sucking on her neck, effectively clearing her vision and allowing her desperate violet orbs to lock onto Elena's form, disregarding the fact that she had just slapped somebody.

With a jolt, she realized this was her only chance.

Elena was her last and only hope!

"ELENA! _ELENA_! ELEN-_mmmpphhh_!" Joshua slapped his hand over her mouth, his blue eyes darkening with rage. "What the hell is your prob-"

"Snow?! Are you okay?"

Thank God, Elena _had _heard her after all. She peeked around Joshua to see the brunette wasn't alone, and that Damon Salvatore was trailing after her.

Tightening his hands on her waist, Joshua growled, "We're fine. Leave us."

"Let _go_ of me," Snow pleaded weakly, desperately trying to push him away.

Comprehending what she had just walked into, Elena took a threatening step forward and yelled, "Hey, leave her alone!"

"I think it's best you let the lady go," Damon coolly intervened. And although he appeared at ease, his electric-blue eyes told another story as they glared at Joshua in a deadly manner; if looks could kill, Joshua would be dead, that Snow knew for certain.

Joshua released her, a sneer contorting his handsome face. Snow instantly hurled herself into Elena's open arms and cried into the crook of her neck. "You stay the _hell_ away from her!" Elena growled at Joshua as she softly led Snow away from the scene, Damon bringing up the rear. Just before they went separate ways, Elena parted him with a curt nod and made her way to her car.

"I'm going to have Jenna call Lucille, let her know you're sleeping over," Elena informed her hysterical friend as she texted Jenna before starting the car and commuting from the school to her house. Snow responded with a barely acknowledgeable nod, knowing that Lucille never dared to refuse Miranda Gilbert, Jenna Sommers, Carol Lockwood and Liz Forbes anything remotely related to her, so she wasn't worried about the consequences of her impromptu sleepover.

Elena didn't force Snow to speak. She knew that once she woke up the next day she would let her know by herself what occurred between her and Joshua Reeves. Elena was just glad she happened to be standing nearby, otherwise… She couldn't bear to even _think_ about what Joshua could have done to her vulnerable best friend.

That night, as Elena and Snow were fast asleep in the former's bed, Damon stealthily appeared in the room and softly caressed Elena's cheek. His attention was then captured by Snow, dried tear tracks littering her porcelain cheeks, and he couldn't help but stroke her cheek in an almost reverent manner.

Snow Silverstone was an enigma to him: her smell, her personality, her ethereal and otherworldly beauty, and lastly, her ancestry. Damon knew he wouldn't be able to rest until he uncovered the violet-eyed girl's secrets and the mystery shrouding her.

* * *

"_**Look…there's Elena and her new boyfriend. Now, what are they doing? Oh, they're walking, walking, walking. Yep. Right into the sunset.**_**" **_**– **__**Tyler Lockwood**_

"_**I don't know why I always hope this day, or the next one, or the next, will be any different. Every day I wake up, I'll still be the step-monster and her evil spawns' slave.**_**" **_**– **__**Snow Silverstone**_

"_**There's more to me than just gloomy graveyard girl. There's a whole other Elena that you have yet to meet. She was into everything, very busy.**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert**_

"_**How were tryouts? Did you make the team? Very Emerson, the way you reveal your soul with so many…adjectives.**_**" **_**– **__**Damon Salvatore**_

"_**When I touched Stefan, it was a feeling. And it vibrated through me, and it was cold, and it… It was death. It's what I imagine death to be like.**_**" **_**– **__**Bonnie Bennett**_

"_**I don't know what game you're trying to play with Stefan here, but I don't want to be a part of it. And I don't know what happened in the past, but let's get one thing straight…I am not Katherine.**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert**_

"_**You're still haunting me. After 145 years. Katherine is dead. And you hate me because you loved her, and you torture me because you still do. And that, my brother, is your humanity.**_**" **_**– **__**Stefan Salvatore**_

"_**There's something about that Silverstone girl, and don't you act all coy with me, Stefan. You know exactly what I'm talking about. You've known the second you set sights on her… She isn't normal.**_**" **_**– **__**Damon Salvatore**_

* * *

**A/N:**** Joshua Reeves. What's up with him? I put a lot of thought into this OC and **_**boyyy**_** do I have a lot of surprises for you. Lemme know what you think.**

**R&R.**


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:**** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters, ideas and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

_**CHAPTER 4:**_

**FAIRY GODMOTHER**

* * *

**Shield (**_**noun**_**): a person or thing providing protection**

"_**Because when it comes to my offspring I will fight with the fangs of a wolf and the claws of a dragon. And no one, or nothing, will stop me from protecting them.**_**"**

"_**To protect the sheep you gotta catch the wolf, and it takes a wolf to catch a wolf.**_**"**

"_**Who will take the pain and shield me, shape my heart and never leave.**_**"**

* * *

When Snow woke up in the morning, she felt something was amiss, and realized that, not only had she fallen asleep in her cheer uniform, but the bed she was tucked into was immensely more comfortable than she was accustomed to – _and big_! Shaking the last remnants of sleep from her eyes, she blindly reached out for her phone to check the time and a terrified shriek erupted from her, "Oh my God, oh my God, _oh my GOD_! I am so dead!"

"_Ugh_, go back to sleep…_wait,_ _Snow_? What's wrong?" Elena murmured groggily, twisting around in her bed to face her with one bleary eye opened.

…Wait, _what_?

A nervous laugh escaped Snow's lips, "Am I in your room, or are you in mine?"

Elena stared at her best friend in amusement. "You don't remember… Last night, you slept over. Jenna already notified Lucille so don't worry about it," she hastened to reassure her, knowing the reason behind her best friend's incoming anxiety attack.

"Phew," Snow sighed. "I can't remember the last time I woke up _this late_."

"Late?" Elena repeated, incredulous and full of disbelief at Snow's concept of time. "Snow, it's the _weekend_. If anything, it's _early_."

Snow smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, well, I meant late for _me_. You know I have to cook for the step-monster and evil stepsisters… _Huh_," she blinked in afterthought. "I wonder how they'll get by without me today."

Elena shook her head, ensuring Snow couldn't see the simmering rage in her eyes that yearned to be unleashed on those ingrates. She despised the way Lucille and those step-bitches treated her friend; it wasn't right! She, Bonnie and Caroline were impatiently awaiting the day those barbarians got what's coming for them.

"You have two options, either come back to bed for a nice, well-deserved sleep, _or_ go shower before Jeremy hogs all the warm water," Elena released a jaw-cracking yawn, stretched her gracile form, and allowed her head to droop into the pillow. "Oh, and pick whatever you want from my closet."

Beaming, Snow excitedly hopped out of bed, "Thanks! I'll go shower."

An hour and a half later, a refreshed Snow and a wide-awake Elena descended the stairs to join Jenna in the living room. She barely acknowledged them as was too busy staring at the television with intense hatred blazing in her usually kind eyes. "Scum bucket. _Scum_ Fell," she snarled through gritted teeth, a tick in her jaw.

"Who are you talking to?" Elena asked in amusement as she bypassed Jenna to the kitchen and poured coffee for herself and Snow.

"_Him_!" Jenna practically growled, pointing her index finger at the television, where a reporter was currently broadcasting the morning news.

"The news guy?" came Snow's confused inquiry, her head tilted to the side.

"_Also known_ as Logan '_Scum'_ Fell," Jenna added, emphasizing her deep disdain for the guy. She then turned to Elena, "Did your mom ever tell you why I moved away from Mystic Falls?"

Elena perked up at that little tidbit and moved closer to get a better look at the reporter, "Oh, no way. You and him? He's _hot_!"

Jenna gasped, a horrified look coloring her features. "He is _NOT _hot! There's _nothing _hot about him," she glanced desperately at Snow as Elena left the room laughing. "What about you?"

Snow shot Jenna an apologetic smile, "Sorry Jenna, but he is hot. _Really _hot."

"Ugh. Not you too. Bunch of _traitors_," Jenna groaned, burying her face into her hands.

"Anyways what was reported on the news?" Snow asked, curious.

"They found out what was attacking all those poor people. It was a mountain lion. It was roaming around the streets and they caught it," Jenna sadly informed her.

"Oh no_…_Thank God it's all over," Snow whispered. She still couldn't believe Tanner was dead. The man taught her for two years, and even though he was a douche, every single death had a huge impact on Snow and despite his flaws and cantankerous disposition, he didn't deserve to die. _Nobody did_. She didn't know why, but death and tragedy always hit her hard… her friends told her it was because she was sensitive and had a big, caring heart.

"What are you doing with that?" Jenna's voice snapped Snow out of her little pity-party reverie and she turned around to see Elena, holding a cardboard box, join them.

"I went yesterday and I got it from the safe deposit box. Mom had told Mrs. Lockwood she would loan it to the Founder's Council for their heritage display," Elena informed her aunt.

"Is that Grandma Beth's wedding ring?" Jenna admired an ostentatious sapphire ring inlaid with diamonds, her eyes glazed in awe.

Picking up the ring, Elena, after a quick scan, corrected her, "Originally, it was great-great-grandma Mary's wedding ring."

"I completely spaced about the heritage display. I don't know where Lucille put all my ancestors' things, or if she'd even allow me be in attendance," Snow sadly confessed, fiddling with a few Gilbert heirlooms that caught her eye and therefore, blind to the reactions elicited by her statement. Elena looked mad, but it was Jenna that spoke up, her customary kind and gentle hazel eyes alight with fury. "You leave _that woman_ to Carol and I, sweetie. Besides, I _guarantee_ when you head back home, there'll be a surprise waiting for you," she sent Snow a conspiratorial wink, prompting her to respond with her trademark soft smile.

She didn't know what she would do, or where she would be, or even how life would look like without her staunchest supporters: Carol Lockwood, Jenna Sommers, and Liz Forbes – those three super-women were her rocks, and she was thankful they were still around now that she lost Miranda.

"How much do you think this stuff is on eBay?" Jeremy's voice permeated the room. Joining them by the island, his large chocolate-brown orbs intently studied a pocket watch from the box. Huffing, Elena snatched the watch from his hand, "You're _not_ going to find out."

Indignant, Jeremy snapped, "That stuff is Mom and Dad's. You can't just _give it away_."

"I'm not _giving it away_, it's called a _loan_, Jeremy," Elena gently disclosed before leaving them to answer the door. The next thing Snow knew, Stefan was pulled into the foyer and after a steamy kiss, the happy – and _adorable!_ in her personal and completely biased opinion – couple ascended the stairs, Elena's bedroom door slamming shut a few seconds later, leaving Snow to shake her head fondly at their honeymoon-ish behavior and emit a dreamy sigh. Oh how she _yearned_ to have what Elena had. She inwardly cringed, feeling her waist flare with pain, and she remembered last night… and the angry handprints Joshua parted her with.

She glanced at Jeremy, who was donning a kicked puppy-dog expression while he stared sadly at the box of valuables. Smiling, Snow placed a comforting hand on his arm, grabbing his attention, "I know how you feel, Jeremy. My parents died a long time ago and I, too, have to hand over their things for the heritage display. It's tradition in Mystic Falls, and it's _just_ a loan. They can't keep the Founding Families' items with them forever."

"Yeah, thanks," Jeremy beamed at her. "Thanks, Snow. You always know exactly what to say."

Snow grinned, shrugging a shoulder, "_Eh_, it's a gift."

Thirty minutes later, Snow sighed sadly to herself as she stood in front of Silverstone Manor. It always surprised her, and equally saddened her, how much she hated entering her childhood home… the same Manor her ancestors lived and grew up and raised their children in, and so on. Exhaling a long-drawn-out breath, Snow mustered the small amount of courage that still remained inside her and crossed the lawn, took out her spare key, and hesitantly opened the heavy oak front door.

"Snow, _sweetheart_, is that you?" Lucille called out, her tone saccharine and filled with fake warmth. This was the only sign Snow needed to know that the step-monster was entertaining a guest, and one that probably knew her well, otherwise Lucille wouldn't have bothered playing nice.

"Yes, hi. Oh, _Mrs. Lockwood_! I'm so sorry! I didn't know you'd be here. I-I slept over at Elena's," Snow stuttered politely as she moved toward Carol Lockwood, expecting her to open her arms to embrace her as per usual. Carol genuinely laughed at the soft-spoken teenager, her eyes warm and fond, emotions that never failed to make an appearance whenever Snow was within her sights and at arm's reach. Beaming, she gently placed her teacup on its respective plate and tightly engulfed her in a hug filled with warmth that only a loving and caring mother had the ability to bestow.

Feeling as though she had died and temporarily gone to Heaven, Snow sighed happily. She loved Carol's hugs; they always left an imprint inside her of _what_ a mother's embrace felt like, and the broken part inside of her that missed her parents, and the love of a parent, burst through and made its appearance.

"Oh, silly, _silly_, Snow. How many times _must_ I remind you to call me _Carol_," the Mayor's wife tittered, steering her to sit beside her on the futon.

"Yes, Snow dear, Carol was waiting for you. She came to collect some of your ancestors' belongings for the heritage display," Lucille conveyed in a honeyed tone that prompted an internal wince.

"_That's not all_. I also stopped by to let you know that I have a _gorgeous_ dress picked out _especially _for you. I chose it with you in mind. I wanted to inform you that I will have it dropped off at the Gilbert's with Tyler tomorrow. You absolutely _must_ look fabulous for the Founder's party tomorrow. _Don't you think so,_ _Lucille_?" Carol sniped, her tone biting as she glared at the step-monster and plastered a fake smile on her face.

Carol never fell for Lucille's nice façade, and she knew that if she hadn't come over personally, then Lucille would've forbidden Snow from attending. Lucille being a smart woman with a healthy dose of self-preservation, she knew that she could _never dare _deny the Mayor's wife anything, lest her reputation in Mystic Falls get ripped into shreds and burned into ashes, never to be assembled and restored again.

"Yes of course," Lucille managed to pleasantly spit out. Snow did not know how on earth she managed such a feat. Lucille Silverstone had always been a great actress; too bad for her, Snow had people firmly on her side, most of which were important individuals in their community, that never believed her act, not even for a second.

"Well then. Now that _that's_ settled, I'm afraid I must dash," Carol elegantly got to her feet and bid Snow goodbye with another embrace, squeezing her reassuringly. "Lucille, it was _nice_ to see you again. And Snow, I look forward to seeing you tomorrow _on time_ _with_ the dress I picked out for you."

It was women politics at its finest.

Snow knew Carol was sending Lucille a subtle warning that spoke _volumes_ and Lucille heard it loud and clear: _Do not, under any circumstance, make Snow late and don't dare force her into an ugly dress._

"Goodbye, Carol," Lucille shot back, her tone clipped.

"Bye, Carol. See you tomorrow," Snow exuberantly called after her retreating back with a jaunty wave.

Once the door closed behind Carol, a suffocating silence pervaded the room as Lucille leveled Snow with a loathsome glare, who attempted to make herself as small as possible. "Since you missed breakfast, go clean the house and get lunch ready for myself and my darling daughters. _Now_!" Lucille sternly snapped, her voice morphing into an eerie sibilant hiss toward the end.

The raven-haired girl scurried out of the drawing room and into the large kitchen in search for the right ingredients to cook lunch; she didn't need to make Lucille angrier than she already was. It was only for today. Just one day and tomorrow… tomorrow she'll be out _all day_ among the presence of her friends and people that _actually_ cared for her and her well-being.

* * *

"_Snow_! Tyler dropped off the dress, heels and accessories Mrs. Lockwood picked out for you! They're over there by the closet," Elena exclaimed excitedly, waving her hand toward the general direction of her closet where it hung on the knob, its garment bag preserving its pristine condition and ensuring it remained wrinkle-free. Jenna had confided in Elena the plan she and Carol cooked up together, making certain Snow would be in attendance of the Founder's party, undermining Lucille's authority over Snow in the process, and she thought it was quite ingenious of them.

The violet-eyed girl beamed like a child on Christmas Day and crossed the distance between the door and her dress, admiring it, incapable of suppressing her gasp of awe at the stunning sight. "_It's beautiful_!" and it _truly_ was. It was perfect. The dress's material was red silk with an embellished open back, it fluted from her waist down where the hemline cascaded and stopped a few inches above the knee. _Never_ in Snow's life, had she been given the chance to wear something so sexy and revealing and something so- _so_ _daring_! since anything of the sort were unfortunately, too expensive for her meager budget.

Ironically, with the nickname her evil stepsisters had cruelly bestowed her, at this particular moment, Snow actually felt like Cinderella, and if anyone was to take the position of her Fairy Godmother, then the role would definitely belong to Carol Lockwood, _hands down_.

"So, Snow... you going to tell us what happened last night?" Elena pierced her with a '_don't_ _you dare back out_' look.

"Wait, what happened last night?" caught off guard, Bonnie blinked at her two best friends in surprised confusion. On second thought, she couldn't recall interacting much with Snow the other night.

"Are you going to tell her, or should I?" When Snow hesitated, Elena adopted a softer approach, "Snow, we're your _friends_. You have to trust us to always be there for you. We're _always_ going to be on your side."

Snow sighed in resignation and sat cross-legged on the floor between Elena and Bonnie. "_Joshua Reeves_ happened. For the past two years, he's been asking me out. _Nonstop_! I was never interested in him and I told him exactly that from the _very beginning_. I mean, it's cruel to lead people on; you guys _know_ I don't like breaking hearts," Snow wiped a few streams of tears from her face. "But recently, ever since the party at the woods, he's been taking it to a whole new level."

"_Define_ 'whole new level'?" Bonnie looked angry. Hell, she was downright _furious_.

A few sniffs emanated from the raven-haired girl and she scrunched the tissue paper in her hand into a ball. "He's been harassing me. Grabbing me and forcing himself on me. The first time, Elena actually saved me when she ran out of the woods yelling for help because Vicki was attacked. The second time, he came to the Grill with his friends and cornered me by the bathroom. Tyler walked in on us, _thank God_. Then, the third time was last night, he-he," Snow began to cry earnestly, and both Bonnie and Elena were apoplectic with rage at what their docile, kind-hearted friend had to go through all by herself.

"Last night I was talking with Damon, when I heard Snow scream my name. I saw his hands were around her waist and he wouldn't let go. Honestly, if it weren't for Damon, I'm afraid something worse would have probably happened," Elena seethed.

"What _exactly_ happened last night, Snow," Bonnie asked, making sure to keep her tone gentle.

"I was about to help Elena break the fight between Tyler and Jeremy when somebody grabbed me from behind and placed a hand over my mouth. Joshua cornered me and pinned me to a tree and he-he, he _kissed_ me, and he forced himself on me… I know it sounds lame to you guys, but I like being untouched and innocent until my Mr. Right comes along. I want _him_ to be my first kiss and Joshua stole that from me," she sobbed, blowing her nose on a tissue.

It took two cups of tea spiked with a dollop of whiskey to soothe Snow's nerves and for her crying to finally subside before the girls were able to talk to her.

"You should have told us about Joshua when it first started, Snow. We aren't just buddies who hang out during and after school, or on the weekends. We're your best friends, your_ sisters_! You have to trust us. Just like we come to you with our problems, we want you to come to us with yours," Elena passionately concluded, clasping Snow's hands in both of hers. "Besides, that doesn't count as your first kiss. A kiss is considered a kiss when it's reciprocated, 'kay?"

Bonnie nodded in wholehearted agreement to the brunette's heartwarming rigmarole. "Yeah. If you told us before, we could have sicked Matt or Tyler or even Stefan on him and threatened him to leave you alone. Bullies have low self-esteem, and Joshua is _definitely_ a bully for picking on a girl…a girl that has such a kind heart and couldn't bear to harm _anyone_," she smiled.

"Thanks girls, don't worry, I have learned my lesson," Snow offered them a watery smile. "Do you mind telling Caroline for me? I don't want to repeat myself and relive it all over again."

She received twin nods in response. Deciding a change in ambience was desperately needed, Bonnie grabbed the two nail-polishes that sat between them, "Delicate flower vs. naughty vixen."

"Tough call. Can we mix them?" Elena suggested cheerfully. "Although, tonight Snow is going with naughty vixen since she is wearing a sexy and daring dress," she winked.

Snow beamed happily, snatched the aforementioned polish and immediately got started on painting her nails. Bonnie smiled at their no longer single friend, "Look at you, getting all pretty for your date. You seem happy-_ish_."

The brunette laughed, her smile threatening to split her face into two. "I am… _ish_. Tonight's going to be a good night. But don't let that stop you from telling me whatever it is you wanted to tell me as soon as you walked in the door," she slyly quipped.

Snow paused in applying polish, the brush frozen mid-air to better gauge the upcoming confrontation.

"What if I tell you in the morning? I don't want to ruin the night," Bonnie seemed suspiciously nervous, raising alarm bells in the other girls' heads.

"Bonnie, out with it!" Elena snapped. Snow proceeded to paint her nails, all the while keeping an ear out for whatever Bonnie was obviously dying to say. As expected, it didn't take much for Bonnie to cave, "Okay, but it has to go in the vault, because Caroline will _kill_ me if it gets back to Damon that she squealed."

"But…hang on a second, Bon," Snow frowned in confusion as she processed her friend's words. "Caroline _knows_ you'd tell Elena if it was related to her."

In response, Bonnie, not having expected that, stared blankly at Snow, and she could see the wheels turning in her head. "True… huh. Well, anyways, _apparently_ Stefan has a very interesting back-story."

"Uh-huh," features neutral, Elena stared expectantly at Bonnie.

Licking her lips, Bonnie breathed out, "Do you know what happened with his ex-girlfriend Katherine?"

"Well, I know that Stefan and Damon both dated her," Snow casually interjected, though internally, she was distressed at the betrayal both brothers portrayed and wondered what exactly was so special about this one girl, she was able to turn the brothers against each other.

Elena inclined her head in Snow's direction, "Right. And that's why they both have issues."

"Yeah, _they both dated her_, only she chose Damon. And that drove Stefan mad, so he did horrible things to try and break them up. He manipulated Katherine. He filled her head up with all these lies until finally it worked, and she turned against Damon," Bonnie repeated verbatim everything Caroline spilled to her that morning when they met at the Grill for coffee.

"That sounds like one person's side of the story, _meaning_ _Damon's_," Elena ground out, rolling her eyes in irritation.

Shrugging her shoulders in an extremely innocent gesture, Bonnie said, "I just wanted you to know." It was visibly clear to both girls that Bonnie believed Damon's side of the story.

"Anyways-" Elena laughed nervously, not particularly fond of their current topic, "-his past relationships are none of my business."

The caramel-skinned girl made a noise of disagreement, "Unless he's a calculating manipulative lair. _That is your business_."

Snow sighed loudly, the noise prompting the duo's attention to be fixated on her. Disregarding them for a moment, she performed the finishing touches on her toes and moved to her fingers before finally allowing herself to meet their gaze, "Honestly? If you want my opinion, I don't believe Stefan is any of those things."

"How would you know?" Bonnie scrutinized the docile girl, her visage contemplative.

Inhaling a deep breath, Snow, her eyes never once leaving her nails as she painted them a vivid red, broke into speech, "Because I can sense that Stefan is _really_ into Elena, and when I say really, I mean he is starting to fall for her, and _hard_! I _also_ sensed that Damon has major issues with his brother and that he's trying to rile things up for him. If you want _my_ opinion, this is some kind of twisted version of Chinese Whisper. I think that Damon fed Caroline a bunch of lies, _knowing_ she'd spill the beans to Bonnie, who, in turn, would tell Elena, who would start acting odd and suspicious of Stefan, which would create problems and most probably result in you two breaking up. And in the end, Damon would have succeeded in ruining Stefan's relationship with a girl he is starting to fall for thus making him unhappy… and that ladies, is probably Damon's goal in the first place."

Flabbergasted, Elena and Bonnie stared at Snow with wide eyes and gaping jaws, both of them devoid of comprehensible words.

"That's… _wow_!" was Elena's eloquent response.

"I didn't think of it like that. So… _technically _we're all being manipulated by Damon?" Bonnie scowled, not at all thrilled at being a pawn in the elder Salvatore's chessboard.

Snow shrugged, "I read Sherlock Holmes a couple of times. And you wouldn't _believe_ how many backstabbing antagonists exist in romance novels, trying to break up the 'It-Couple'. You learn a few things."

"But what did you mean by you 'sensed'," Elena tilted her head, curious.

Unable to immediately formulate an apt answer, Snow put the polish away and blew on her wet nails. A minute later, she hesitantly uttered, "I don't know… I-I guess I'm just really good at reading people."

Accepting her answer, the girls finished applying their makeup and were slipping on their dresses when Elena's phone started ringing, "Hello? Hi, Mrs. Lockwood. What do you mean? Are you sure? 'Cause I saw it. Let me check. Mm-hmm. I will find it and bring it. Ok. Bye." Looking incensed, Elena tossed her phone onto her bed and without another word, she stormed out of the room with narrowed eyes, pursed lips and clenched fists.

"I wonder what's wrong with her," Bonnie pondered aloud.

"Something obviously Jeremy-related," Snow matter-of-factly hypothesized. "So you're my date tonight, right Bon?"

"Of course!" Bonnie beamed.

* * *

"Snow! You look absolutely _stunning_! I knew red would look _marvelous_ on you!" Carol engulfed the younger girl in her arms and sent her a conspiratorial wink, "Lucille and her daughters have already arrived."

"Thank you, Carol. You really are a lifesaver," Snow laughed.

"Oh, think nothing of it, dear. Now you two girls enjoy your night," Carol parted them with one last smile before she moved on to greet the other guests that were lined up behind them, leaving Bonnie and Snow to head into the Lockwood's extravagant Manor.

No sooner had they stepped foot inside, did they come face-to-face with Mayor Lockwood, his handsome face alight with a crooked grin, "Snow Silverstone, you look beautiful, sweetheart."

"Thank you, Uncle Richard," she smiled, pink staining her cheeks.

"Go have fun girls, enjoy," and with a last smile, he left.

The girls separated for a while and Snow went to identify which of her ancestors' items Lucille handed over to Carol to be displayed. There was an impressive collection of jewelry and a few devices she didn't understand… there was also an archaic-looking horn that stood out like a sore thumb, not looking like it belonged at _all_, but what confused her greatly, was that most of the jewelries appeared to be masculine; the feminine ones on the other hand, had the Silverstone Crest alongside some other crest she couldn't distinguish.

"The Silverstones," a familiar voice that resembled honey resounded from behind her and she turned a fraction to see Damon approaching her with confident steps, a cocky smile on his face that she was beginning to think was his trademark signature, or perhaps his permanent expression.

Snow let out a nervous laugh, "Yeah. You know, this is the first time I'm seeing my ancestors' valuables."

"Really?" Damon glanced at her with both brows raised. "Meaning you're ignorant of your ancestry?"

Snow shook her head and she could practically feel the disappointment radiating from Damon, evoked by her unawareness. "I'm sorry," she whispered, shyly lifting her eyes to meet the elder Salvatore's.

A slight frown married his face, "Why are you sorry?"

"You're disappointed with my answer… I guess many would want to know more about my ancestors but I unfortunately have nothing to tell them," she admitted, her voice reeking with sorrow as her eyes traveled along each and every valuable on display, a wistful air to her.

Damon was shocked; yes he was disappointed, but it wasn't her fault. She was too kind. Snow Silverstone was an absolute mystery to him. But while he loved a good mystery, most times he never had the patience to solve them.

"Anyway, um, I was actually hoping I'd run into you," Snow smiled timidly at Damon.

That elicited a smirk to curl on his lips, "Really?"

"Yes. I wanted to-, I wanted to thank you for the other night with Joshua. You didn't have to help me… you barely _know_ me. So, thank you," her voice rang with honesty, and Damon couldn't distinguish a note of malice in her tone, only sincere appreciation.

He nodded and Snow left him standing by his lonesome to ponder the mysterious dark-haired, fair-skinned beauty.

Snow kept mingling and even danced with Mayor Lockwood at his insistence, claiming that she should grab the opportunity to share a dance with somebody that was like a father-figure to her. She was having a good time and only bumped into Lucille once, although, throughout the night, she didn't fail to notice the plethora of envious glares her evil stepsisters would constantly toss at her from afar. Nevertheless, they made sure to keep their distance – and Snow had a feeling it was on Lucille's orders; Lucille was the only person the gruesome twosome listened to.

She later spotted Stefan and Elena standing side by side, reading the first registry and she went over to them. Elena beamed at her, "_Snow_! Hey, look at this: 'The Founding families in Mystic Falls welcome you to the inaugural founder's council celebration.' Look at all these familiar names – Sheriff William Forbes, Mayor Benjamin Lockwood, Gerard Silverstone-" Elena suddenly gasped, looking closely at the following names, "Is that Damon Salvatore? And,_ Stefan Salvatore_?"

"The original Salvatore brothers. Our ancestors. Tragic story, actually," the trio turned around at Damon's voice. He approached them with Caroline on his arm.

"Hey, Care!" Snow beamed.

Caroline's eyes widened and she moved forward to embrace Snow. "Snow! You look _gorgeous_! _Oh my God_, Lucille and the step-bitches must be _seething_!" she laughed.

Something about Snow made her very huggable to her friends and to strangers as well. Snow didn't know why, maybe it was because she was too gentle and kind that everyone felt like protecting her and snatching her up in hugs.

"We don't need to bore them with stories of the past," Stefan snapped, glaring meaningfully at Damon who merely responded with a lazy smirk that spoke of untold mischief.

"It's not boring, Stefan. I'd love to hear more about your family," Elena fluttered her eyelashes at Stefan.

"Well, I'm bored. I want to dance. And Damon won't dance with me," Caroline huffed. She then turned to Elena, "Could I borrow your date?"

"Oh-uh…" Elena trailed off unsurely, taken aback by the blonde's boldness.

"I don't really dance," Stefan stated.

Snow felt awkward; something was wrong and she was extremely uncomfortable. She didn't want to make a scene – not that she ever could – but she felt a very antagonistic atmosphere shrouding their small group.

"Oh, _sure he does_. You should see him. Waltz, jitterbug, _the moonwalk_. He does it all," Damon disputed with a devious smirk.

"You wouldn't mind, would you Elena?" Caroline looked beseechingly at Elena. Lifting her shoulder in a shrug, the brunette glanced at her boyfriend and sighed, "It's up to Stefan."

Not giving him the chance to refuse, Caroline moved forward and grabbed Stefan by the wrist, "Well sorry, but I'm not going to take no for an answer." She then proceeded to drag him alongside her toward the dance floor, leaving Snow, Elena and Damon behind by the registry.

For a while, an unnerving silence blanketed the trio, until Damon opened his mouth and looked at Elena contritely, "I want to apologize for being such a world-class jerk the other night when I tried to kiss you. There's no excuse. My therapist says I'm…acting out, trying to punish Stefan."

Snow blatantly gaped at him. While she knew her deduction was spot on and that he _was_, in fact, trying to punish Stefan for past wrongs, she was shocked he would go so far as to try and kiss his brother's girlfriend. That was _n__ot cool_. "Um, you probably need some privacy; I'm just going to go…"

"No, Snow, stay," Elena pleaded, quickly taking her hand. Damon smiled down at her, a mocking quality to it, "Yes, Snow. _Stay_. Don't leave on my account."

Once she made sure Snow wasn't going to leave her alone with him, Elena turned back to Damon. For some reason unknown to her, Damon Salvatore made her severely uncomfortable, and Snow was dead on with her previous hypothesis. "For what reason are you punishing Stefan?" she inquired.

Damon smirked lazily, shrugging nonchalantly. "It's all in the past. I don't even want to bring it up. Let's just say that the men in the Salvatore family have been cursed with sibling rivalry. And it all started with the original Salvatore brothers," he ominously revealed. He then looked back at the registry, "The Salvatore name was practically royalty in this town. Until the war. There was a battle here–"

"The battle of Willow Creek," Elena and Snow repeated in unison. Damon stared between the girls in mild amusement, "Right."

"I know, we talked about it in class. Confederate soldiers fired on a church with civilians inside," Elena recited.

He hummed, studying the two girls for a moment. "What the history books left out was the people that were killed. They weren't there by accident. They were believed to be union sympathizers. So some of the founders on the confederacy side back then wanted them rounded up and burned alive. Stefan and Damon had someone they loved very much in that church. And when they went to rescue them, they were shot. Murdered in cold blood."

"That's so sad," Snow whispered, tearful violet orbs locked on the two names inscribed on the registry.

Undeniably hooked, Elena asked, "Who was in the church that they wanted to save?"

"A woman, I guess. Doesn't it _always_ come down to the love of a woman?" Damon smelt salt in the air and noticed, to his surprise, that Snow had actually been reduced to tears.

"Look, I'm sorry that you and Stefan have this thing between you, but I can't get in the middle of it, Damon. I just… I hope you two can work it out," Elena gently imparted, as though letting him down easy.

"I hope so too," Damon murmured offhandedly.

"I'm going to go to the powder room," Snow chuckled wetly, wiping away her traitorous tears. Taking note of Elena's concern, she smiled and lightly shook her head, "You know how sad stories get to me, Elena. I'll see you later. Bye, Damon."

On her way to the powder room, she couldn't help but overhear Logan Fell, the reporter, and Jenna talking, or well… Logan was talking, Jenna on the other hand, she was definitely arguing. She didn't want to seem like she was eavesdropping but she could practically _feel_ the love and sorrow on Logan and her conscious wouldn't allow his emotions to remain ignored. Seeing Jenna storm off, she quickly intercepted her.

"Oh hey Snow-, wow, you look beautiful-, _wait_, are you crying?" Jenna's face morphed from annoyance to happiness to concern, all in the span of five seconds.

She carelessly flapped her hand in the air, brushing off Jenna's unsolicited concern. "It's nothing. I heard a sad romantic story, you know how they get to me," Snow laughed. Jenna nodded in agreement, having had walked in on Snow crying plenty of times because of some book or movie. "I actually wanted to talk to you about your reporter."

She scowled. "He's not _my_ reporter, he's not _my anything_," Jenna retorted, though her temper wasn't directed at Snow, merely the mention of that Scum-bucket rendered her incandescent with rage.

"If you want my opinion, I think you should give him a shot. He seems really guilty and I can sense that he really loves you," Snow smiled. Jenna looked over at the other side of the room to see Logan staring back at her, his expression fond.

Snow squeezed her hand and continued to make her way to the powder room. She smiled to herself upon noticing Jenna hesitantly approach Logan at the bar, where he seemed to be nursing a drink. When she entered however, she was frozen to her spot, surprised to find Elena and Caroline congregated inside and in the middle of a heated argument.

"Is everything okay?" Snow tentatively inquired from the entrance; there was real tension in the room and it was suffocating. Elena rushed toward Snow and dragged her forward, yanking the scarf from Caroline in the process, which prompted her to shriek indignantly and clutch at her neck.

"Look at this, Snow! Look at all these marks from Damon!"

Gripping Elena's hand, Snow felt faint and her jaw dropped, "Oh my God, Care! What is- di-did _Damon_ do this?" He may have had his flaws, and that smirk of his meant nothing good, but Snow truly believed he was a good person.

"No!" Caroline nervously cried out, trying to grab hold of her scarf, "Of course not! Just leave me alone. Okay!?"

Snow felt tears accumulate in her eyes at the sight of Caroline's back – her pale and smooth back marred with horrid bite marks that were emitting a bluish-purple sheen; they looked utterly painful. Elena barged out of the powder room and Snow wordlessly followed, unable to look at her friend and the horrifying marks riddling her body without breaking down. She lost track of Elena, and a part of her was glad, she didn't think she could face Damon after this revelation. He saved her from Joshua, yet in the end, he turned out to be no better than him.

"Snow?" a familiar masculine voice echoed in concern. She whirled around to see Stefan and she couldn't help but sniffle, a few tears leaking down her eyelids. Stefan immediately rushed to her side and placed a gentle yet firm hand on each of her upper arm, "What happened? Are you okay?"

Snow shook her head tearfully, only managing to utter unintelligible broken words, "Caroline… Damon, oh God!" At that moment, Elena rushed over, her expression one of relief at the sight of Snow, and she gathered her into her warm and comforting embrace; she knew that the surroundings always had a huge effect on her gentle friend.

Keeping hold of her hysterical friend, she lifted her gaze to meet Stefan's, her expression a mixture of anger and contrition, "I'm sorry. I take it _all_ back. You're completely right about Damon."

"What happened? Did he do something to Snow?" Stefan studied Snow's tear-stained face in concern, a gleam of anger passing through his eyes; he felt a connection, some sort of companionship with the docile and kind-hearted dark-haired girl, and the mere thought of Damon hurting her set his nerves on fire.

"No, no," Elena shook her head, rubbing soothing circles on Snow's back. "There are bruises all over Caroline's body._ Bite marks_, and he has her all confused and messed up in the head-" She abruptly paused, taking a good luck at Stefan as an ugly thought struck her and she stuttered, "You-You don't look surprised."

"I'm handling it, Elena," was Stefan's cryptic response.

"_Handling_ _it_, Stefan?" Elena snapped incredulously, "You should be having him _arrested_!"

"Elena, please. I-I don't expect you to understand," Stefan locked eyes with her, imploring her to understand at least a fraction of what he was currently going through. Snow looked at him with red-rimmed eyes, and felt a great deal of sincerity, desperation and devastation.

"I don't understand anything, Stefan. So why don't you clear it up for me," Elena bit back.

"Look, there are things that you don't know, okay? Things that I want to tell you, but I can't. And I may never be able to. And I just need you to trust me," Stefan beseeched her.

"Trust is earned, I can't just _magically_ hand it over," Elena retorted, her disposition stuck on incredulous.

Finally speaking up, Snow whispered his name, grabbing Stefan's undivided attention, "Just please, keep your brother _far away_ from my best friend. _Please_."

Stefan nodded, glancing away from her intense stare in time to see his brother forcefully dragging a hysterical Caroline outside. He looked sorrowfully at the two girls, one practically inconsolable with anger and one radiating profound sadness, "I'm sorry. I have to go."

"Can you believe him?" Elena demanded, emitting an indignant huff.

"Put yourself in his shoes, Lena. Jeremy is doing drugs, and yet you don't have it in you to report him or send him away to rehab," Snow compassionately informed her. Vehemently taken aback, Elena stared at her gentle friend with wide eyes before nodding, looking a hint sheepish, "You're right… let's, let's just find Caroline."

Together, the two girls searched everywhere for their blonde friend, and they were having no luck until _finally_, they found her returning to consciousness by the front lawn with a strange amber necklace in hand.

"Care, oh my God! Caroline are you okay?" Snow ran to the blonde's fallen form and engulfed her in a tight embrace as she erupted into hysterical tears.

"Caroline, what happened?" Elena gently probed as she knelt by the crying blonde's other side. "You're shaking!"

"I'm fine!" she yelled, her body trembling.

"Caroline, come here, come here," and together, the two girls hugged their distressed friend on the Lockwood's yard.

* * *

"_**Some girls just can't resist my good looks, my style and my charm and my unflinching ability to listen to Taylor Swift.**_**" **_**– **__**Damon Salvatore**_

"_**The real animal is out there, waiting for me, challenging me to fight back, to stop him. But how do I stop a monster without becoming one myself.**_**"**_**\- **__**Stefan Salvatore**_

"_**How come you don't sparkle?**_**" **_**– **__**Caroline Forbes**_

"_**How good are you at getting this little nose where it doesn't belong?**_**" **_**– **__**Damon Salvatore**_

"_**She may not be my daughter by blood, Richard. But I love Snow as though she was my own, and I'll be damned if I let that bitch Lucille destroy the light within her.**_**" **_**– **__**Carol Lockwood**_

"_**Older sexy danger guy? Is that an official witch twitter tweet?**_**" **_**– **__**Caroline Forbes**_

"_**You know you're making the wrong choice, yet you make it anyway. It's sad.**_**" **_**– **__**Jeremy Gilbert**_

"_**That poor girl needs her godfather. Where the Hell have you been?!**_**" **_**– **__**Richard Lockwood**_

"_**Vervain hasn't grown here since 1865. Damon saw to that.**_**" **_**– **__**Stefan Salvatore**_

"_**Look at her, look how happy Snow is. I haven't seen her smile like that since Miranda and Grayson… We make a good team, partner.**_**" **_**– **__**Jenna Sommers (to Carol Lockwood)**_

"_**I admire your effort, Stefan. Pouring yourself a drink then spiking the bottle with vervain. I'm not some drunk sorority chick. You can't roofie me.**_**" **_**– **__**Damon Salvatore**_

"_**I came to the funeral.**_**" **_**– **__**Logan Fell**_

"_**There is something really wrong with you. You stay away from Caroline or I will go straight to her mother, the sheriff. You got it? Stay away from her.**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert**_

"_**All day, I've never been happier. Wearing this dress, surrounded by friends and people who actually care about me, it's been amazing. But… despite it all, the tension's been slowly draining me. Something's wrong, Bonnie. And…I, I can't help but feel like, like this is just the beginning.**_**" **_**– **__**Snow Silverstone**_

"_**I was young and stupid, and then things changed. Life got…real. You'd know better than anyone.**_**" **_**– **__**Logan Fell**_

"_**You know, I couldn't spike your drink…So I spiked hers.**_**" **_**– **__**Stefan Salvatore**_

"_**I was thinking maybe I could make one more wrong choice today. I still have 17 minutes.**_**" **_**– **__**Vicki Donovan**_

"_**When I saw Snow crying, and she said your name. Brother or not, I felt this powerful urge to kill you. So, yes, you're right, Damon. There's something about her… she isn't normal.**_**" **_**– **__**Stefan Salvatore**_

"_**They've come back.**_**" **_**– **__**Logan Fell**_

* * *

**A/N:**** Done! What did you think? Do you like Snow's character and how I portrayed her? There are some hints in this chapter regarding Snow, I don't know if you noticed, but there are more to come. Things will start changing soon.**

**Question: What do you want me to do with Logan Fell? I would like to read your opinions on what you would like to happen to him, and I'll try and see if I could have it fit into my plot.**

**R&R.**


	6. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:**** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters, ideas and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

_**CHAPTER 5:**_

**PLEBEIAN RUSH**

* * *

**Nightmare (**_**noun**_**): a frightening or unpleasant dream, experience, or prospect**

"_**My dreams are so vivid and so real, when I wake from a bad dream my heart pounds with anxiety.**_**"**

"_**Bad dream? Do you know how easy it was to get in your head just now?**_**"**

"_**I'm every nightmare you've ever had. I am your worst dream come true. I am everything you ever were afraid of!**_**"**

"_**When the darkness creeps in, I feel my nightmares watching me. And when my dreams are sleeping, I feel my nightmares watching me.**_**"**

* * *

_Snow found herself walking through the deserted hallways of Mystic Falls High. She scrutinized her surroundings, completely freaked out at the eerie silence. The hallway was empty, no one stood by the lockers and there wasn't a single student in sight. Brushing off her discomfort, unaccustomed to her beloved school taking resemblance of a ghost-town, Snow proceeded onwards; however, deciding to err on the side of caution she kept her pace slow and her eyes sharp and wary. The only sounds permeating the air were her light footsteps, and her rapid, shaky breaths that accompanied them. Snow shivered at the ominous feeling in the air and hugged herself._

_She couldn't shake the feeling that she was being followed, and in her paranoia, every couple of steps she took forward, Snow would snap her head to look behind her… only to see no one. She could hear her heartbeat thudding loudly and the blood rushing in her ears as her fear spiked to an unnaturally high level._

"_Elena?" Snow flinched when her voice rang through the halls, echoing disturbingly in her ears, and bouncing off the walls. The stillness was unnatural. "Bonnie?" Nothing. "Caroline?" she whimpered. There shouldn't be an echo, the place should be bustling with students; there should be a cacophony of voices chattering, and laughter should fill the halls. _

"_Hello? Is anyone there? Please… somebody?"_

_Snow jumped half a foot into the air and leaned against the wall, clamping her mouth shut, when she heard a door slam loudly, the thud reverberating menacingly in her ears. Realization dawned on her…Somebody was toying with her. She was the prey, and she was being hunted. Closing her eyes, she inhaled and exhaled repeatedly, a mantra dancing in her head: she could do this, she could do this, she had to do this!_

_Resolved, Snow's eyelids flew open, her violet eyes fixated on the path that lay ahead and she followed the direction of the slammed door. Upon reaching the door, Snow hesitantly brought her trembling hand forward and gripped the door handle, her hand bone-white as she tightened her hold on the metal and slowly, she tugged it downwards and entered the classroom, the door creaking ominously as it swung open._

_The sight that met Snow's eyes prompted a loud, earth-shattering scream to erupt from her lips, the frequency nearly deafening her. Violet eyes were incapable of closing, wide with unadulterated horror as tears began to form and one hand automatically sprung upwards to cover her gaping mouth that yet to stop emitting the banshee-like screams, while her other hand clutched at her thudding heart._

_Caroline's wide cornflower-blue eyes collided with her violet orbs – wide, glassy and unseeing. Her usually lustrous blonde hair was matted with an abundance of blood, half of which were congealed while the other was still fresh, and her body lay crumpled on the desk, spread-eagled with her back flush against the teacher's desk, blood crawling down and dripping loudly as it connected with the puddle of crimson amassed on the floor. Snow couldn't peel her eyes from the large pool of blood that stained the white-polished floor, accumulating from the three stab wounds inflicted on Caroline's stomach._

"_No! __**No**__! __**Caroline**__!" Not caring about the probability that the killer might still be in the school, or the fact that there was blood everywhere, Snow ran toward her best friend and frantically felt around for a pulse. There wasn't any. "You can't be dead! Please, Care!" Snow cried loudly, her body convulsing with vicious sobs as she shook the lifeless body of her best friend._

"_Snow Silverstone…"_

_Snow froze, her sobs subsided. She recognized that voice. She __**knew**__ its owner. Turning around, her eyes widened at the sight of Damon Salvatore, a sinister smirk on his face and a knife held aloft in his hand, its steel blade coated with Caroline's blood._

"_You're next," Damon growled, kicking the door closed with the heel of his foot, the door making a loud, reverberating bang–_

BANG!

"_ARRGHH_!" Clutching her chest, the raven-haired girl lurched forward, and in the process, nearly toppled off her bed. Closing her eyes, Snow inhaled and exhaled sharply, the cruel sounds of laughter piercing her eardrums, and she looked up to see Haisley and Paisley holding onto each other to prevent themselves from collapsing on the floor due to their uncontrollable laughter.

Masking the hurt from her eyes at their unnecessary act of cruelty, she narrowed them at her evil stepsisters, not appreciating what they considered to be a 'morning prank'. "What do you want?" Snow hissed through gritted teeth. The nightmare had really shaken her and she wasn't in the mood to entertain them or their foul humor.

"You slept in. There's barely any time for you to make us breakfast!" Haisley sneered.

Studying her crudely bitten nails, Paisley sent her an ugly smirk, "Yeah, Mother isn't thrilled. Not. at. all." _Oh_! What she loved the most was when Snow, the goody two shoes with her holier than thou attitude, slipped up and got into trouble; however, much to her irritation, the priggish bint was too meek and submissive, she rarely ever got into any.

"Wow, somebody's been reading the dictionary lately," Snow muttered under her breath.

Beady eyes narrowed, Paisley sneered, "Watch your tongue, _Cinderella_. Lest you lose it!"

The second her evil stepsisters abandoned the threshold of her bedroom, Snow scrambled out of bed and dashed into the bathroom, ripping her pajamas off and showering quickly, not bothering to wait for the hot water in her frantic haste. Tears blended with the ice-cold water, but Snow ignored them for the sake of completing her morning routine before she got into deeper waters with Lucille.

Sliding on her pair of ripped jeans and a plain red T-shirt that was snug on her body, she deposited herself on the edge of her bed and quickly donned her red ankle converse. Leaving her room, she stuffed her cellphone into her book bag and descended the stairs two at a time, her heart beating in a frenetic tempo.

Shortly after, the sibilant sizzling of the bacon and the distinctive sound the spatula made as it scraped against the bottom of a frying pan pervaded the kitchen as Snow hurriedly prepared bacon and scrambled eggs for the twins. Two ivory plates, sprinkled with gold inlay, sat on the ebonized-oak island in front of Haisley and Paisley, both of whom were dully scrolling through their respective phones – the latest edition of the iPhone; a gift from the step-monster to her 'precious darlings'. Dark eyes flickering from their phones' screens to their no longer empty plates, identical malicious smiles curled on their lips and they scarfed down their food before leaving the house, all the while fighting over which one of them would be driving to school – again, none of them bothered to spare her with so much as a '_thank_ _you_'.

Like in almost _every single_ thriller movie the raven-haired girl watched, a cold voice spoke from the shadows, prompting her to jump in unmitigated fright. "You were _late_ today, Snow," Lucille stepped into the kitchen, her jaw tight and muddy-green glare unforgiving.

Snow dipped her head in apology, "I-I'm sorry Lucille. I had a nightmare and–"

"I. don't. _care_. if you have night terrors, you _stupid girl_! You actually think I care? _What, _are you expecting me to hold your hand and read to you bedtime stories, so you can have an undisturbed rest?!" Lucille snapped, icy eyes boring into violet orbs. "Why should my precious girls suffer because of you," she sneered.

Desolate, Snow retrieved her book bag as the telltale arrival of Bonnie's pervaded the air, courtesy of the honking car horn from outside. Looking at her step-monster, she timidly asked, "Do you need anything before I leave?"

"No! Just get out of my sight! And you best make sure we do not have a repeat of this morning, or next time, I won't be so forgiving."

The two girls stopped by the Forbes House as Caroline was carpooling with them to school. The blonde sat cross-legged in the middle of her bed, impeccably dressed and looking as though the incident at the party never occurred. This was the first time Snow was seeing her since the party and she almost broke down with relief at the sight of her bubbly best friend alive and whole.

Offering no warning, Snow crossed the room and tackled the blonde in a suffocating embrace. "Oomph, Snow?" Caroline giggled, instantly wrapping her arms around the docile girl, "What's wrong, sweetie?"

"I was terrified for you. I feel much better knowing you're okay." And she did; her nightmare infected her already chaotic thoughts in regards to the entire ordeal between Caroline and Damon. She still found it hard to believe Damon Salvatore hurt her friend or even had the capability of hurting someone – but then again, Snow generally had issues believing the worst in humanity. While Damon gave off a manipulative and slightly creepy vibe, he had treated her with kindness, and due to that, Snow had an exceptionally hard time accepting he had harmed her friend.

Understanding Snow's desperate need for reassurance, Caroline steered her so that she sat beside her on the bed, an arm still looped around her shoulders, "Snow, come on. I'm fine, I'm here. Don't worry."

Joining them, Bonnie leaned against the window, her arms folded and eyes intent on the blonde, "What happened last night, Care?"

Violet eyes lifted to meet cornflower-blues, sharing Bonnie's curiosity. When Snow and Elena found Caroline by the Lockwood's lawn, the weeping blonde remained inarticulate, confused and crying and hysterically mumbling Damon's name and "_he bit me_" over and over like a mantra. By the time they dropped her off and tucked her fully-dressed form into bed, Caroline had been reduced to zombie-like state. If Snow didn't know how anti-narcotics the blonde was, she would have assumed drugs.

Blonde brows knit together, "I remember the party. Damon came up behind me, and he was kissing my neck… or _biting_ my neck. I passed out. It's like there's holes in my memory lately." She shrugged, wholly unconcerned by the anomaly, "It's just weird. Maybe I let him bite me."

Bonnie couldn't help but scoff. "Why would you do that?" she demanded, directing an incredulous look Caroline's way. However, Caroline responded with a groan, clearly uninterested in rehashing Damon's abuse and mistreatment of her. "Can we _not_ talk about it, ok? _Don't _want to talk about Damon. I don't want to talk about _any of it_. Just want to go back to normal," she then frowned in confusion. "What are you doing with that candle?"

Bonnie nervously averted her gaze from the candle to meet her two friends' confused expressions, "Um… nothing. What's this?" Snow peeked over Caroline to see Bonnie pointing at the amber necklace that hadn't left Caroline's vice grip when they had found her. Whenever she or Elena made an attempt to confiscate it from her hold, the blonde would scream bloody murder. Eventually, Caroline fell asleep with the necklace wound tightly around her hand.

She shrugged, her tone nonchalant, "Damon gave it to me. Or he was _going to_ give it to me. All I know is, it's mine now."

"It's ugly," Bonnie stated matter-of-factly.

"Well, get your _grubby_ hands off it," Caroline retorted.

* * *

"The sexy suds car wash is tomorrow. The football team and the band have committed. Well, not all the band. Just the ones who could pull off the bikini. I want, in your face, sexy. I mean, it's a fundraiser, for God's sake." The trio sat congregated around a picnic table at school, observing in disbelief as Caroline performed last minute plans for tomorrow's car wash. The blonde's behavior was becoming increasingly worrying. Elena shook her head, disbelief heavy on her features, "Unbelievable. It's like nothing happened."

"She's in denial," Bonnie commented.

The raven-haired girl was quick to come to Caroline's defense. "Come on you guys, she's just trying to distract herself from all that's happened," though she didn't sound certain of her own hypothesis. "I mean… it must have been horrible for her…what she went through," Snow suppressed a full-body shiver, her nightmare flashing before her eyes.

"Hey." Hearing Stefan, the trio whirled around and smiled at him, "Hey, Stefan!"

Checking the time on her phone, Snow sighed, "Sorry, I gotta dash. My shift at the Grill starts soon."

"I was just about to head home. I'll drop you off," Bonnie linked arms with her gentle friends. The two girls waved goodbye to the couple and went on their way.

It was only an hour into her shift when Elena walked in and approached her at the bar, "Hey Snow. Have you seen Stefan?"

She smiled in apology, "Nope. Sorry, Lena."

Smiling at Snow, Matt joined them, or well, to be more precise, the only reason he came over was to spend time with Elena. "If you want to kill some time, um, you can rack," Matt offered, a sheepish smile adorning his handsome features. Elena let out a small laugh, and just as she was about to reject his offer, Matt utilized a great method persuasion by evoking her competitive side, "Come on. We haven't played in forever. I'll let you break. Maybe this way, you'll win this round."

A faux-gasp left her lips and Elena tossed him a stubborn glare, "Oh, you're on, Matt. Bye, Snow!"

Giggling at their banter, Snow shook her head, a fond smile coloring her lips as she watched them approach the pool table. Unfortunately, her good mood shattered at the sight of the bright smile lighting up Matt's features, suddenly feeling bad for the quarterback. It was obvious to the snow-kissed girl that Matt _still_ hadn't gotten over Elena, despite the fact she had moved on with Stefan. Everybody knew the two were dating, and yet Matt still held onto false hope. …And pouring more salt to his metaphorical wound, as Elena's best friend, and having been around for the development of their relationship from the very beginning, Snow knew Elena was _really into_ Stefan. She hoped Matt's pining over Elena will be short-lived and that he'd find somebody to help him move on.

Another hour passed before Stefan finally arrived, and Elena was anything but happy – not that Snow blamed her. Sighing to herself, she occupied herself by clearing out a recently vacated table, shaking her head the whole time at how messy people could be when, all of a sudden, an African-American man, who appeared to be somewhere between his sixties or seventies, disrupted Stefan and Elena's heated conversation.

"I know you. _My God_!" his eyes were fixated on Stefan, staring at him as though he were a ghost.

Snow tried to tune them out, but they stood a few feet away from her and the old man wasn't making any attempts to reduce the volume of his voice. "I'm sorry?" Stefan looked perplexed, Elena's reaction almost identical to her boyfriend's as her confused orbs traveled between the old man and Stefan.

"I know you. How can it be?"

"I think you have the wrong person, sir," came Stefan's adamant rebuttal giving Snow the feeling he was nervous.

Ignoring Stefan's denial, the old man spoke over him, "You haven't aged a day."

"I'm sorry. Excuse me." Stefan outright ignored the old man, turning his back on him to meet Elena's bewildered gaze, "Hey, can we… can I take you home and we can talk about it? Is that ok?" All the while Stefan endeavored to steer the brunette toward the door and out of Snow's hearing range. Returning to the bar, balancing a tray of dirty cutleries, violet eyes turned sad at the sight of Elena walking away from Stefan, leaving him to stare at her retreating back, his expression resigned and shoulders slumped.

A soft sigh escaped her. From the very start, Snow had been rooting for Stefan and Elena. But lately, they've spent most of their time together arguing when they should still be in the Honeymoon phase. Snow had high hopes the two would set aside their differences and attempt to work things out. Drawn to another table, Snow turned to see Jenna and Logan Fell enjoying their lunch date and she couldn't help but smile to herself at the fact that _not all _romance was dead in this town.

_Hmm… maybe all they needed was a little push._

And just like that, a brilliant idea materialized in Snow's head. "Hey, Stefan!" she called out to the younger Salvatore, who had yet to move an inch from where Elena last left him. Turning at the sound of his name, Stefan advanced toward her, "Yeah, Snow?"

"Elena likes Chicken Parmesan," she got straight to the point. Confused, Stefan shot her a questioning look. Smiling pointedly, Snow elucidated, "One of her favorite meals is Chicken Parmesan. Just thought you should know for future reference." Parting him with a conspiratorial wink, Snow left to take an order.

Smiling in comprehension after her retreating back, Stefan yelled after her, "Thank you!"

* * *

Purse looped around her shoulder and phone in hand, Snow headed toward the front door, her other hand an inch away from the knob, when Paisley's unwelcome voice sneered from the living room, "And where do you think you're you going?"

"Um, the-the sexy suds car wash is today, Paisley," was Snow's soft response. She wasn't in the mood for the evil stepsisters' toxic presence and she had been hoping to depart the Manor without any confrontations with them or Lucille.

Unfortunately, the universe appeared to be working against her today.

"_What_?!" Haisley hissed, her surprise prompting her to spit out Coke. "You cannot go! _Mother! Mother! Moooommmm!_" she yelled, the sound of her nasal voice almost eliciting Snow's ears to bleed and every glassed structure to shatter.

The ominous clicking of heels against the marbled floor permeated the interior of the Manor. Snow's heart started beating wildly, her anxiety threatening to make a hasty comeback at the incoming confrontation. "What? What? Haisley, _what is with the racket_?" Lucille descended the stairs and stood between the foyer and the living room, her glare unwavering at the offending twin in a mixture of concern and displeasure. "A lady must _never_ yell like a commoner, I taught you better than that, Haisley."

Haisley grumbled and Paisley quickly rose to her sister's defense. "Cinderella is going to that _stupid_ car wash. Tell her she cannot go," she whined in a fashion similar to a petulant child.

Lucille stared pensively at Snow, who cowered under the full force of her stare, her posture defeated. However, the step-monster was full of surprises, "By all means, let the girl go."

Vehemently taken aback, Snow's jaw dropped. The twins weren't faring any better as emitted an incredulous gasp, "_What?_"

"But, _Mother_–"

"The poor girl's used to performing all the grunt work around here, she simply wants more. I believe it would be quite amusing to permit her to wash peoples' cars like those plebeians in nothing but her underwear," a sinister smirk materialized on Lucille's face. "I know for a fact she doesn't own a decent bikini."

The evil twins burst out into fits of uproarious laughter, "Have fun, _Cinderella_!"

The step-monster's ruthless cackling, intermingling with those of her evil stepsisters, echoed in her ears as Snow ran out of the Manor. She took her time trekking to school, tears falling rapidly from her eyes, but it was no use, every time she wiped them off, more took their place. She felt so humiliated and angry. Lucille was right; Snow didn't own a single bikini, not even a one-piece. But she had promised Caroline and Snow never broke a promise; also, she didn't want to disappoint her best friend, who had worked tirelessly over the event's success, regardless if it was a form of distraction or not.

According to Caroline, she had the perfect form for a bikini and since she needed extra hands, Snow volunteered. Letting out a sigh, Snow hoped the blonde wouldn't object to her washing cars in denim shorts and a tank top. However, upon reaching the school's parking lot, Snow was surprised to see Caroline waiting for her, a bag in hand. "What's this?" Snow sniffed, dragging a hand across her tearstained face.

"Why are you crying?" Caroline embraced her friend in concern.

Grumbling, Snow patted the blonde's back and slowly pulled away, "Stupid step-monster and evil stepsisters."

"What did they do _now_?" Caroline demanded furiously.

The raven-haired girl sighed and shook her head, "Something along the lines of cleaning cars like a plebeian in my underwear."

"Hmmm. Well, for starters, the step-monster only said that because the step-bitches could never, and I mean _not even in their dreams_, pull off a bikini. I mean…_ick_! And B.T.W., I _have_ a bikini for you right here," an ebullient smile brightened the blonde's already luciferous features as she dangled the bag under Snow's nose, her eyes alight with excitement.

For a moment, Snow found herself devoid of any words as her eyes widened in joy. She peered into the bag and withdrew a lilac bikini the blonde had bought especially for her as the particular shade accentuated the color of her eyes. Snow couldn't help but tackle Caroline in a massive hug, "Thank you, thank you, _thank you_! You, Caroline Forbes, are not only a lifesaver, but _the_ _bestest_ friend in the whole entire world!"

"Hey, what are sisters for?" Caroline shrugged with a wink, "Now go sexy yourself up, girlfriend! Go!" she smacked Snow's derriere, eliciting a giggle out of her as she ducked into the closest bathroom to get changed.

Soon after, she stood beside Elena in silence as they allowed Caroline to give them the pre-sexy suds rant, "No friend discounts. No freebies. No pay ya laters. We are not running a charity here. No, we are not."

"_No we are not_," Snow and Elena obediently chanted after her as Stefan approached them, an amused smile playing on his lips. Staring Stefan, and then Elena, down, cornflower-blue eyes raking their respective forms in disapproval, Caroline proceeded to roll them, "The event is called _sexy suds_, you know." Her blunt statement was promptly followed by another look-over, while Snow bit down on her lower lip to repress the bubble of laughter that threatened to be released. Completely dismissing the dress code, Elena decided to come in a light cardigan and shorts, while Stefan paired his jeans with a jumper.

The moment Caroline departed, her hair whipping around angrily, Stefan shot Elena an amused look, "Did we get scolded?"

"And judged, yeah," Elena giggled, though she didn't look bothered by Caroline's attitude.

"And that's my cue. I'm going to leave you two lovebirds alone," Snow winked. Before she could leave, Elena stopped her by throwing her arms around and gratefully whispered, "Thank you for yesterday. Stefan told me you helped out."

Snow smiled, "Anything for you, Lena. Besides, he's a good guy."

She chose to hang out with Bonnie, both of whom started washing a car by Matt and Tiki. A car that looked like it was surviving its last years and in desperate need of a complete paint job parked in front of them. Snow smiled at the owner while Bonnie addressed Tiki, "This one's yours."

Scandalized, Tiki glowered at the car, then its owner, "Why do _I_ always get the homely ones? Just to be clear, your car's a P.O.S. I mean, we _can_ wash it, but it's still a P.O.S."

"_Tiki_! Don't be so mean!" Snow gasped in horror. She quickly shot the disgruntled and deeply offended man an apologetic look. "Sir, we are _so sorry_—"

Tiki scoffed at the kind-hearted girl, "Rude is uglying up the road with that junk." Bonnie glared at Tiki, fury brewing in her eyes when all of a sudden, the hose turned on by itself and drenched Tiki in water. Snow had to admit, it was kind of cool; almost like the Karma Gods were listening in on them, doling out their brand of retribution.

"Whoa! What the _Hell_?" Tiki screeched, frantically shielding her face from the water with her bare hands. Matt quickly came to her aid and closed the hose, laughing good-naturedly, "Wet and wild, Tik."

Meeting Bonnie's gaze, Snow realized her friend had frozen in shock, "You okay, Bon?" In response, hazel-green orbs met her gaze and she shook her head in confusion, allowing her shoulders to rise in a shrug.

Halfway through the car wash, Snow had started on her fourth car, nerves infiltrating her system. She felt extremely troubled with the male population's constant attention – they kept _flirting_ with her and stalking her with their eyes and dropping innuendos that made her blush and ache to disappear or at least cover herself up from their unwelcome stares and drooling mouths. Thankfully, Elena unwittingly came to her rescue and dragged her away, "Caroline left me to mind the money, so you, my friend are going to keep me company."

"I could kiss you right now," Snow sighed in relief. At Elena's questioning look, Snow emitted a groan, "Nearly half the guys in here wouldn't _stop_ flirting and asking me out. One guy even tried feeling me up! I feel so exposed."

"Well, minding the money is safe," Elena laughed in amusement. She glanced up and smiled kindly, "That'll be $20." Snow let out a gasp that blended with Elena's, instantaneously recognizing him as the old man from the Grill who wouldn't stop harassing Stefan the other day. "I saw you last night. You were talking to a friend of mine. At the Grill," Elena further elucidated when he simply looked at her, confused.

A tentative smile on his face, he shook his head, "Well, I-I thought it was somebody I knew."

"Stefan Salvatore," Elena stated, a calculating glint in her chocolate eyes, searching his expression for _something_. Recognition flared in the old man's eyes at Stefan's name, but he repeatedly shook his head, "Nah, it can't be. It's just my mind playing tricks on me."

"Where did you think you'd seen him before, sir?" Snow decided to contribute to the intensive questioning Elena was putting him through, ensuring her tone remained respectful. Her inquiry, however, prompted feelings of confidence to radiate from the old man.

His gaze flickered onto Snow, "When I first moved here, I stayed at the Salvatore Boarding House. Stefan was just passing through to visit his uncle. I mean, none of us knew he was even here until the attack."

"The attack?" Elena pressed.

"His uncle got killed. Mauled by an animal in the woods," the old man nodded, adamant on the veracity of his story.

Looking lost, Elena asked, "His uncle? Zach?"

Snow didn't know what conclusion Elena was waiting for or why she was interested in the strange man's tale… he could simply be confusing Stefan with an ancestor that shared a great resemblance to him. In fact, it was quite normal for individuals to inherit features from their ancestors. It's a rule of life, after all.

The old man shook his head, "Mm-mmm. Joseph."

"I'm sorry, sir. I don't think we're familiar with the story," Elena flicked her index finger between herself and a still bemused Snow.

He chuckled, "Oh, how could you? I mean, this happened _years_ ago." Suddenly, Tiki obstructed their vision as she placed an arm around the old man, carefully escorting him away from them, "Grandpa, you gotta go. Mom wants you home. Ok?" He nodded and moved to leave. Tiki glanced apologetically at Snow and Elena, "He wasn't bugging you, was he? He's a little alzy-heimer."

Snow smiled sweetly at the old man. Poor guy; Alzheimer was horrible. Snow couldn't imagine what it felt like to live a long and rich life filled with memories of people, places, experiences, and family, only to one day begin forgetting everything, memories trickling away slowly like sand in an hourglass. To Snow, Memories were one of the most precious attributes of life, and without your memory, you are nobody but a husk of your previous-self.

She was abruptly dragged out of her thoughts by Elena's hand circling her wrist, just before she yanked her forward in order to follow the old man. "Elena-, what–"

"Hey, sir, I'm sorry. Um, are you sure that the man that you saw, that you knew, his name was Stefan Salvatore?" Elena wouldn't let it go. She'd make a good reporter…

His nod was firm, eyes alight with recognition, "Yes. I remember his ring and his brother–"

"Damon?" Elena's voice was unsteady. Snow's eyes widened… okay that was too much of a coincidence. No way did the old man live through the first founder's council where the original Salvatore brothers, Stefan and Damon, had died.

"Yeah. Stefan and Damon Salvatore." Snow gasped once Tiki's grandfather confirmed it. _Too much of a coincidence. No friggin way!_

"When- When was this?" Snow hesitantly spoke up, desperate to know. She could now understood and appreciate the reason behind Elena's tenacity and single-mindedness to receive answers regarding Stefan from this man.

He took a moment to ponder before answering in a gravely tone, "It was early June, 19…53. Yeah, June, _1953_."

Snow and Elena exchanged identical looks of shock before the latter told her to meet her by Jenna and that she was going to feed Stefan some excuse so she can leave without making him suspicious. Snow had no idea what Elena was planning, but nevertheless, she instantly agreed.

Despite shocking events, Snow still found it in her to give Jenna, who was flirting with Logan Fell, her famous luciferous smile, "Hey Jenna!"

Taken aback and brows furrowed, Logan stared at her. "Snow Silverstone?" he squinted at her.

Offering him a half-wave, she nodded shyly, "Yeah, that's me. And you're the reporter, Logan Fell. It's nice to meet you."

"Actually, we've met before, you were nine. I was there for your father's funeral. I'm sorry for your loss," Logan's smile was kind, yet strained.

A pang of hurt struck her at the mention of her father; despite the years, she hadn't stopped missing him, or gotten over his abrupt death. "Thank you. It was a long time ago. Did you know my father well?" she inquired politely.

"As a matter of fact, I did. We were both members of founding families so we ran in the same circle. Anyway, I want to thank you for convincing Jenna here, to give me another chance," a charming smile took over Logan's face, enhancing his good looks. Snow blushed, a nervous laugh escaping her, "Oh, um, it was nothing. I've always been an avid believer of second chances."

At that moment, Elena, her somberness concealed, joined them, throwing Snow a furtive look that had her instantly recalling their previous conversation with Tiki's grandfather. "So, Jenna… Is Logan enough in your good graces that I can ask him for a favor?" Elena inquired cheekily.

Logan smirked at the object of his affection, "If I do her a favor, will I get back in your good graces?"

Despite her uncertainty, Jenna couldn't refuse the tantalizing amount of charm Logan was exuding, and her lips curved into a smile on their own accord, "Uh, a very reluctant maybe to both."

"Done!" Logan promptly exclaimed. Before Jenna could change her mind, he added a stipulation of his own, "Wait. One condition. Dinner, tonight. Your house." A part of him felt bad for deceiving her, and while he wanted nothing more than to rekindle their relationship, Logan needed that compass… it was life or death situation, and the safety of Mystic Falls and its inhabitants depended on his success.

"Fine," Jenna rolled her eyes, exasperated. "But you're eating leftovers."

"_Oooh_!" Logan chuckled. He focused his attention on Elena, "What do you need?"

Hesitantly, Elena asked, "Do you have access to old news stories, say… _fifties_."

Not thinking much of Elena's inquiry, Logan nodded, "Yeah, at the station. Between the archives and the internet, we pretty much have everything."

"Snow and I have this report way past due. It'd be a lifesaver," Elena smiled disarmingly, and Snow rearranged her face to look as convincing as possible.

Logan checked his watch, "Heading there now. Let's go."

Turning to Jenna, Elena looked dead serious, "If anyone asks, you don't know where we went. We don't want Caroline to know that we left." Certain that Stefan wouldn't suspect anything of their disappearance, the two girls climbed into the news-van with Logan, and headed off to the TV station.

Snow and Elena sat in front of a computer, Logan leaning over them as he instructed its correct usage, "We digitalized our archives last year. You can pull all the remote footage right up on screen. What is it exactly you're looking for?"

"An incident from 1953, if it even happened, at the old Salvatore boarding house," Elena revealed casually. Clicking open the video file, Logan answered a call and ducked into his office, leaving the girls to observe the footage and satiate their curiosity.

In the screen, the reporter stood before the familiar dwelling, his expression grim as he broke into speech, "This is Franklin Fell reporting to you from the Salvatore Boarding House, where a _brutal_ animal attack has ended in a tragedy. Okay, they're bringing out the bodies. See if you can get closer. Is that the nephew?"

A loud gasp sprang forth from Snow's lips, her eyes wide on the screen and her finger reflexively halted the footage. All Snow and Elena could do was stare at the screen in an amalgamation of unmitigated shock and stark horror, their eyes incapable of moving from the devastatingly handsome brown-haired boy's frozen face who seemed to be, _hands down_, a carbon copy of the Stefan Salvatore they left at the car wash not long ago.

* * *

"Elena! _Elena_, what's happening, how is that even possible?"

After having witnessed the footage from _1953_ starring Stefan Salvatore, the two girls left the TV Station as though it were on fire and drove straight to Elena's. Currently, the raven-haired girl was pacing around the middle of her friend's room like a maniac possessed, a hand occasionally pulling at her long locks, while the brunette stiffly sat on her window seat, her vacant stare fixated on a blank page of her diary.

"I'm not a believer Snow," Elena finally spoke up, her voice a mere whisper.

"Believer of _what_? _What_, Elena!? Tell me, 'cause I'm, I'm _way past_ freaking out and, and _you know_ I'm not good with tension," Snow blathered hysterically, she looked close to tears, and had inadvertently pulled out a few strands from her scalp.

Slowly, Elena placed one foot on the floor, and then the other, before she abandoned her window seat and stood up, her diary sliding from her lap onto the floor. Her eyes never left Snow's terrified orbs, "Someone who never grows old… I mean Stefan looks _exactly_ like the Stefan from 1953."

"It-it could be an ancestor and the name is just a, a _coincidence_," Snow wasn't even convinced by her own words, she was merely grasping for straws so that her world remained the same.

Elena continued as though Snow never interrupted, "Someone who changes in ways that can't be explained. Sometimes, I'd see his eyes turn red and, and these _dark lines_ creeping under his eyes. …but I thought it was just my imagination playing tricks on me." Head shaking rapidly, the brunette approached her vanity and stared at her reflection in the mirror, index finger drawing lines under her eyes. Hair whipping in the air, she recaptured Snow's terrified gaze. "And those girls being bitten! Vicki. _Caroline_. Remember her-_her_ _back_," Elena stuttered, memories flooding her mind as she proceeded to connect the dots and make sense of the strangeness that had taken over their supposedly idyllic town.

And finally, Snow's expression flared with realization. Taking a few steps forward, she gripped Elena's hand, a sense of urgency on her face, "_Bodies drained of blood_!"

"Exactly! Remember when you asked Matt what attacked Vicki, and she said—"

"_Vampire_," Snow breathed out, pressing both hands to her mouth. The moment the word left her lips, Elena strode to the door. "Where are you going?" Snow cried out, running after her.

She shortly stated, "To the boarding house. You with me?"

Like she even had to ask. While completely frightened to death, wanting nothing more than to hide under the duvet until the problem went away, Snow wasn't about to let her best friend confront Stefan without her…_without backup_.

In record time, the duo parked haphazardly in front of the Boarding House, and just as they shortened the distance to the door, it flew open and Stefan, his features compressed in palpable fury and eyes dark with malice, stormed out, a wooden stake gripped tightly in his hand. Elena's arm was captured in Snow's vice grip, never before having seen Stefan look so…_so menacing _and _angry_. "What are you?" the brunette spat out, her eyes narrowed at Stefan.

For his part, all fury melted from his features, replaced by shock. Their abrupt appearance and the stark fear coloring their visage had him frozen, speechless.

"_What are you_?" Snow shrieked, a tremor in her voice as her grip on Elena tightened.

* * *

"_**During the dark ages when a vampire's actions threatened to expose or bring harm upon the entire race, they would face judgment. They sought to reeducate them rather to punish them … You'll grow weaker and weaker. Eventually you won't be able to move or speak. In a week your skin will desiccate, and you'll mummify. A living corpse.**_**" **_**– **__**Stefan Salvatore**_

"_**I'm a drug-using delinquent. A girl in bed doesn't really rank.**_**" **_**– **__**Jeremy Gilbert**_

"_**You know, I was going to write in my diary this morning and then I thought, what am I going to write? Honestly, I'm not gonna be one of those pathetic girls whose world stops spinning because of some guy.**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert**_

"_**Stefan, where is Damon? He has some serious apologizing to do.**_**" **_**– **__**Caroline Forbes**_

"_**Out of all people, Selene trusted you with her daughter! Was she even a part of the reason you came back?!**_**" **_**– **__**Richard Lockwood**_

"_**Reward implies recognition for some awesome achievement; Lucille gave them the latest iPhone as a reward. For what, you may ask? Lazing about, doing nothing, and getting subpar grades. She's encouraging failure.**_**" **_**– **__**Snow Silverstone**_

"_**We're not family, Damon. Only in the most dysfunctional sense. In fact, I avoided having a living, breathing, loving family because of you.**_**" **_**– **__**Zach Salvatore**_

"_**And then there's Vicki, all nonchalant in the bathroom like it's no big deal that they're hooking up.**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert**_

"_**He's great at football. A little bit of a loner. And as much as I hate saying it, he might be a nice guy.**_**" **_**– **__**Matt Donovan**_

"_**I knew the Gilberts. That watch is passed down to the men in the family. I'd start with Jeremy.**_**" **_**– **__**Liz Forbes**_

"_**I keep waiting for that bus to hit her.**_**" **_**– **__**Haisley Styne (about Snow)**_

"_**She was…the most beautiful girl that I had ever met. She had this perfect olive skin. And she had this laugh. It was ridiculous. I mean, her laugh made you laugh. And she was fun. She knew how to have a good time. But Katherine was also very impatient and entitled and selfish, and um, impulsive. Enter Damon. He claims that he was with her first. I don't know. I do know that I did some things that…I'm not proud of. And my biggest regret…is not being able to make it right before she died. I miss her, but…I'm no longer crippled by her loss.**_**" **_**– **__**Stefan Salvatore**_

"_**I really hope you're not one of those guys who, now that we're together, tries to change everything about me.**_**" **_**– **__**Vicki Donovan**_

"_**I think that my paranoia has turned into full-blown hallucinations.**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert**_

"_**Mom, if I want to talk boys, I'll call Dad. At least he's successfully dating one.**_**" **_**– **__**Caroline Forbes**_

"_**I don't know what's happening to me.**_**" **_**– **__**Bonnie Bennett**_

"_**Pace yourself, Sheila Bennett. The Pure is awakening.**_**" **_**– **__**The Spirits**_

* * *

**A/N:**** Okay, so done with this chapter. Next chapter Logan dies. I hated that. I like rooting for the underdog, and I saw a lot of potential in his character.**

**Okay, pace yourself, we're nearly approaching Supernatural & deviation from Canon! YAY!**

**R&R.**


	7. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:**** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters, ideas and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

_**CHAPTER 6:**_

**BRAM STOKER VS. TWILIGHT**

* * *

**Answers (**_**noun**_**): a thing that is said, written, or done as a reaction to a question, statement, or situation**

"_**Google can bring you back 100,000 answers. A librarian can bring you back the right one.**_**"**

"_**Okay, could you give me all the bad news at once? Do you have to keep doling it out for dramatic effect?**_**"**

"_**The good news is there is no more bad news.**_**"**

"_**There's no time for waiting, no future to see; inside the next moment, nothing might be; the answer's not certain, no time to decide; is this the last curtain, there's no place to hide. We all know the story, we've heard it before; we end up no question, outside of death's door; there's no easy answer, to the question at hand; so easy to ask, and not understand.**_**"**

* * *

The enveloping stillness prompted Elena to hysterically yell, "What are you? _What are you_?"

"You know," Stefan stated, a resigned inflection in his tone. Forest-green eyes flickered from the brunette to the terrified girl with raven hair, "Both of you."

"No, no we don't," Snow denied weakly, slowly pulling Elena backward to maintain distance between them and Stefan, as well as to keep a close proximity to the car, which happened to be their only method of escape if everything were to go to hell in a handbasket.

Hands up, palms facing them, Stefan made an effort to appear non-threatening, "Yes, you do, or you wouldn't be here."

Elena shook her head, a pleading note in her voice, "It's not possible. It can't be." She needed to know the truth; but all the same, she _wanted_ him to agree with her, to laugh at her overactive imagination, to bring her back to normality. Risking a few steps forward and disregarding the girls' flinch in fear, Stefan spoke in a voice of forced calm, "Everything you know… and every belief that you have is about to change. Are you ready for that?"

"_What are you_?" unconsciously, Snow started to cry, her profound fear of him and of the unknown too much for the gentle girl to handle.

Snow Silverstone believed in _fairy tales_…in magic of the purest kind, and true love, and soulmates. Monsters, on the other hand, she never believed in them. Not once. Not ever…

Pain struck him at the sight of her tears. Averting his gaze, Stefan glanced down at the stake in his hand, and for a moment, he felt like staking himself for making Snow cry. Combating the feeling, he instead chose to give in to his urge to protect the timid girl and the girl he loved. Steeling himself for the inevitable reaction the truth would evoke, Stefan uttered three words that would change the two girls' lives forever, "I'm a vampire."

Silence ensued.

The only distinguishable sound was the howl of the wind and the rustling of leaves in their respective trees as Snow and Elena stared at Stefan, horror-struck.

Snow's nails digging painfully into Elena's wrist snapped her out of her horrified trance. "W-We, we should go, r-right, Elena? Coming here was a mistake. Let's just, let's go." Just before the girls could take that last step to the car, Stefan appeared in front of them, prompting their shrieks to rent the air. "Please. Snow, Elena, please don't be afraid of me," he pleaded.

"H-How did you do that?" Elena gasped.

Snow stared incredulously at Stefan, her eyes nervously moving around in their sockets, "That-that, what, how… you were _just _there! How—"

"Look, please there are things that you have to know and understand," Stefan interjected.

"No! Let us go," Elena yelled, officially more freaked out than ever. As though the hounds of Hell were after her, Snow ran around the car and whipped open the passenger door, jumping inside quickly. Elena side-stepped Stefan and started the engine. Crossing the speed limit, the brunette breathed out, "You're so sleeping over tonight."

Snow bobbed her head. "Definitely! I'm scared, Lena," she cried, tears staining her ivory complexion. It wasn't only her fear, but she could sense Elena's too.

"Me too, Snow. But we'll, we'll figure it out. We'll work through it. Together," Elena offered her a tentative smile, not wanting to add more stress to her friend.

Breathing a sigh of relief once they secured themselves inside the house, the best friends sequestered themselves in the safety of Elena's room and began pacing around while shaking their heads, not knowing what to think or feel about the entire situation. _It was unreal_. Suddenly, Snow stiffened, her wide eyes intent on her reflection in the mirror, tears once again welling in her eyes at the sight of Stefan emerging from the drapes, "E-Elena?"

Following her gaze, Elena gasped, whirling around. She immediately ran to Snow's side and grabbed her hand, but before they could reach the door, Stefan slammed his shoulder against it, shutting it. Fear saturated the air as the girls found themselves cornered with no means of escape, and for a brief moment, Snow forgot how to breathe.

Wanting to put their fears to rest, Stefan quickly reassured them, "I would _never_ hurt you. Both of you are safe with me."

"B-But, wh-what about all those an-animal a-a-attacks? All those p-people who-who died…" Snow trailed off, her back flush against the closed door in hopes of creating a semblance of distance between them while her eyes regarded him with fear.

"No. No, Snow that was Damon!"

"Damon?" Elena gasped.

Oh my God! _Damon_?

Damon who was dating Caroline, who _hurt_ her. The same Damon who rescued her from Joshua.

"Yes," Stefan desperately met their gaze, watching intently as a sliver of fear left their eyes. "I don't drink human blood. That's not how I choose to survive, but Damon does! I'll explain everything to the both of you, but I beg you, Elena, Snow, don't tell anybody."

Nervous, Snow blurted out, "It's not like anyone would ever believe us."

Stefan shook his head, "You'd be surprised how many in this town would actually believe you."

"How can you ask us that?" Elena snapped, cradling Snow in her arms while she glared at him.

"Because you two knowing this is dangerous for so many reasons. You can hate me, but I need you to trust me," Stefan implored, focusing a beat longer on Snow so that she could detect the sincerity in his eyes. He knew that he was taking advantage of Snow's compassion and kindness, but he _needed_ them to trust him. With Damon out and about, their awareness of their secret was more dangerous than ever.

Elena's eyes were wide with fear. She just wanted him to leave her room and to stay away from them. "Just go. Just go, please. Go. If you mean us no harm, then you'll go," she pleaded.

He turned to Snow, but she adamantly averted his gaze, unwilling to stare a second longer at the pain etched on his face. She could practically _feel_ his desperation and sincerity, but she was _terrified_. "I never wanted this," Stefan whispered. A second later, he was gone.

Grossly taken aback, the girls blinked at his vanishing act. The silence in the room surmounted upon his unexpected method of departure and for a while, it remained that way, until Snow finally broke it. "I trust him," she whispered.

The brunette stared at her friend in disbelief. "What? Why? He's a, he's a _vampire_, Snow," Elena stuttered, whispering the 'v-word' as though there were prying ears – though unknown to her, Stefan stood guard by the front porch, warily inspecting the surroundings in case a furious Damon, who was currently murderous with absolute rage, carried out his threat and came after Elena or Snow, and could therefore, hear every single word between them. Unbidden, his lips quirked into a small smile at Snow's words – she truly was a gem…_one of a kind_.

"I know. But I _feel_ it, Elena. I can sense _so much_ good in him. He was being honest with us," Snow begged Elena to understand, despite the fact she, herself, didn't understand _anything_. Discovering this unbelievable revelation had her even more terrified than Elena, and yet, due to her weird, inexplicable 'senses', she was filling in the position of his biggest advocate. "Yes, he's a vampire, and I'm totally freaked out, like seriously, _they exist_, _what_!? But he was a vampire when you first met, he was a vampire when you agreed to go out with him, and he was _still _a vampire when I befriended him… the only difference is that now, we _know_ he's a vampire."

"Okay. First of all, _breathe_. You're rambling," Elena placed both hands on her shoulders, forcing Snow to face her, before she instructed her to imitate her breathing cycle for a minute, not wanting Snow to experience an anxiety attack. "Second, how is it that you _always_ know what to say?" Elena mocked exasperation, suppressing the urge to smile.

Snow shrugged innocently, "It's, like, my superpower."

A small chuckle blended with the howling wind, courtesy of the grinning vampire maintaining guard of the Gilbert Residence and its inhabitants.

* * *

The next day, after having woken up from an unfulfilling sleep that could be summed up to twisting and turning and the constant kicking of feet, and even at one point, Snow accidentally shoved the brunette off the bed, Snow and Elena's first course of action was to open the laptop and type "Vampires" in the search engine.

"Twilight… New Moon… Dracula… Stephanie Meyer, _ugh_! It's no use, Lena. The only source of information available to us _is_ _Stefan_. I mean, you never know, what if there's like, a _Quileute_ _Tribe_ living by the borders of Mystic Falls? Or perhaps in Grove Hill…" Snow puffed her cheeks in annoyance and Elena looked at her docile friend, struggling to quash her amusement.

Rolling her eyes, the brunette took out her phone, "Fine. I'll text Stefan and ask him meet us at the Grill." Having sent the message, she squinted at her friend, a sudden afterthought eliciting confusion, "Hey, what about Lucille? Won't you get in trouble?"

"Nope. My Wicked Stepmother'd make me sleep out of the house if I get home after twelve… _but_ since I slept elsewhere, kinda makes it redundant. Anyway, she probably rejoices whenever I'm not around," Snow scoffed. Digging her finger through the tear in her jeans, she sadly added, "The only issue's breakfast. Marianne can easily have lunch and dinner done, but for breakfast Lucille has to call her at least a day before so she can come early."

Scowling inwardly at the explanation, Elena attempted to instill cheer in her friend, "Well… screw them. Who needs them when you have us-" Her _inspiring_ speech was interrupted by an incoming text, "Whoa, okay. It's Stefan. Come on, let's bounce."

The entire car ride to the Grill was spent in complete silence, none of them bothering to fill it with inane chitchat due to their anxiousness, their thoughts revolving around the upcoming conversation they were about to have with Stefan, and the additional revelations he would be imparting them with. The mere notion of vampires existing was… _it was_ _absurd_. If Snow hadn't witnessed with her very own eyes the abnormal way Stefan moved, similar to the speed of light, and if Elena hadn't witnessed the scene alongside her, therefore ensuring she wasn't imagining things, she probably would've chalked it all up as some elaborate sham… maybe a prank Tyler was pulling.

Entering the Grill, they saw Stefan had beaten them there, comfortably waiting for them at a more secluded table. Clearing her throat to dispel the awkwardness, Snow deposited herself on the chair beside Elena. The brunette slid her chair closer to Snow's until their shoulders brushed, before providing Stefan with her utmost attention. "You said you would explain everything. That's why I asked you to meet us here. When you Google 'vampire' you get a world of fiction. What's the reality?" Elena inquired bluntly, not bothering to beat around the bush.

Radiating sincerity, Stefan said, "I can tell you whatever you wanna know. Both of you."

Glancing at Elena from her peripheral vision, Snow masked her knowing smile behind her hand. '_Thus begins the Elena Inquisition.'_

"I know you eat garlic," Elena stated. Stefan dipped his head in agreement. "And somehow, sunlight's not an issue," brunette brows knit in confusion.

Speaking up for the first time since their arrival, Snow whined, "Please don't tell me you sparkle."

It was like the sun had finally risen – the table's personal sunshine; Stefan laughed, his forest-green eyes twinkling at the violet-eyed girl. "No. We don't sparkle. We don't have a diamond texture, either. We have rings that protect us," he wagged the bejeweled finger, allowing the attention to fall on the very ring both girls recalled admiring the first time the three of them met at the cemetery – _God_, that day seemed _ages ago_.

Recovering from the memory, Elena proceeded with her laconic investigation, "Crucifixes?"

"Decorative," Stefan supplied with a shrug.

"Huh, so not compatible with Dracula either, okay," Snow nodded to herself, mentally crossing off Bram Stoker from her mental checklist along with Stephanie Meyer. Apparently, novelists were incapable of getting their vampire facts straight, which was profoundly disappointing for Snow since she practically lived vicariously through the characters in her storybooks.

Elena rolled her eyes, shooting her friend an exasperated look, "Holy water?"

"Drinkable."

"Oh, _oh_, I got one. What about mirrors?" Snow inquired shyly.

He responded with a gentle smile, "Myth."

Eyes wary, Elena tilted her body forward, "You said you don't kill to survive."

Sucking in a sharp breath, Snow kept her eyes on Stefan, searching for any form of deception on his part. Stefan nodded, "Animal blood keeps me alive, but not as strong as Damon. He can be very powerful."

"So… in vampire standards, the politically correct term is you're a vegetarian," in a cute manner, Snow twitched her nose. Stefan snorted. Elena, on the other hand, lightly cuffed her shoulder, although she was secretly glad for the brief moment of humor, "You really gotta cut down on all those books, Snow."

In a bout of immaturity, Snow responded by sticking her tongue out. However, like whiplash, her eyes turned sad as she addressed the vampire, "If you knew how Damon is, why'd you let him get involved with Caroline?"

Stefan grimaced, "Forcing Damon _not_ to do something is much more dangerous, believe me."

"He was hurting her!" Elena snapped, his reasoning evoking her disapproval.

"He was _feeding _on her. He was able to take away her memories of being bitten using a form of mind compulsion," Stefan elucidated patiently. "She never knew what was happening to her. If he wanted to kill her, he would have."

Scandalized, Elena hissed, "Is that supposed to make it okay?"

He shook his head, "No. No, _none of this_ is okay, Elena. I know that."

"Caroline told me she has _holes_ in her memories from the Founder's party. That's com-, compulsion?" it had been plaguing Snow ever since Damon's cruelty came to light, how Caroline quickly recovered from the abuse and asked Stefan after his whereabouts. It all made perfect sense now – _How is Caroline supposed to move on from the abuse, when she barely had any memories of them._

At Stefan's grim nod, Elena's eyes grew wide as a horrifying thought struck her, "Are there any others, aside from you and Damon?"

A gasp left Snow, the thought downright terrifying. Stefan, they knew and thankfully, he cared about Elena, Snow, their loved ones, and the town in general; Damon… apparently Stefan had a _modicum_ of control over him and his volatile actions since the trigger-happy vampire hadn't been seen since the Founder's party, and besides, whether he liked to believe it or not, as long as Stefan was alive, he would _always_ have a link to his humanity. However, some unknown, unnamed, mysterious vampire lurking in town with no connections whatsoever to any of its inhabitants was a scary thought.

The girls breathed out in relief when Stefan moved his head in negative, "Not in Mystic Falls. Not anymore."

"Not anymore?" Snow squeaked – _Did that mean they could come back?!_

Hearing Snow's frenetic heartbeat, he adopted a reassuring tone, "There was a time when this town was…_very_ _much_ _aware_ of vampires, and it didn't end well for anybody. That's why it's important that you don't tell anyone."

"I can't promise that," was Elena's prompt reply.

Lightly swatting her shoulder, Snow scolded her friend, "_Elena_!"

The violet-eyed girl's kind nature never failed to surprise Stefan, and he couldn't prevent the smile that graced his features. "Thank you, Snow." He then turned to meet Elena's unyielding gaze, forest-greens desperate, "Elena, give me today. I will answer any questions that you have, and when it's over, you can decide for yourself what you wanna do with what you know. It'll be _your_ choice."

"Well, _I_, for one, can sense you're being sincere. I believe you," Snow beamed at the vampire, displaying her pearly whites. The brunette hid her rolling eyes behind her hands, facepalming and emitting a groan, "You are so trusting, Snow, it's gonna get you into trouble one day." It wasn't that she being unnecessarily rude or anything, just Elena displaying concern for her friend. Snow had such a kind nature, her demeanor gentle and forgiving, eliciting the escalating worry that one day, she'd be manipulated and eventually, taken advantage of.

Leveling Elena with a sympathy-filled look, Snow mumbled, "You are such a bad Bella."

The brunette's hands animatedly sprang into the air, "Arghh, Snow! Stefan is _not_ Edward Cullen, I am _definitely not_ Bella Swan, and this is _not_ a reenactment of Twilight."

"You gotta admit though, Damon'd make a pretty good James," Snow bit back a smirk, baiting her friend. Realizing her docile friend tricked her, chocolate brown orbs narrowed in mock rage, a pout formed on her lips, and folded arms that were propped on the table shifted, pressing against her chest in a huff. All the while, Stefan sat chuckling at their antics, their friendship bond refreshing and undeniably one of a kind. Liking the light ambience she unwittingly generated, Snow adopted a pensive countenance, "Wanna know what else's odd—?"

"Pretty sure you're gonna tell us anyway," Elena interjected playfully, snark bleeding into her words.

Acting as though she hadn't been interrupted, Snow proceeded in the same breath, "-Bella lived in a _small town_ called Forks – which by the way, _I still don't get_, I mean, who names a town after a _cutlery_. Following this trend, an emerging novelist'll name a town _Spoons!_ or _Knives!_" Shaking her head, the raven-haired girl inhaled deeply, allowing herself to collect her breath and steer the conversation back on track before she fell victim to, and got distracted by, her wandering thoughts once more, "Where was I? Oh, right._ Then_ there's us! We live in a _small town_ called Mystic Falls. And note that _both_ towns had _vampires_. Think there are werewolves, too? Or d'you think they prefer to be called Shapeshifters. Ya know, political correctness and all that…"

The two brunettes gaped, dumbstruck, at Snow, her visage adorned with an innocent smile. Uncomfortable with the silence and the weight of their stares, she crinkled her nose, "Stop looking at me like that. You're weirding me out."

"_You're_ weirding _us_ out," Elena flicked an index finger between herself and Stefan.

A prominent frown on her face, Snow pouted. "Fine, I'll ixnay the fiction-speak. Just, FYI! Vampires were thought to be a work of fiction, too," she concluded adamantly.

Suddenly, in a move so random he had both girls staring at him in bemusement, Stefan shot to his feet, "Come on, I want to show you something."

Putting their faith in the vampire for the meantime, Elena's trust, first and foremost, originating from Snow's resolute assertion that Stefan meant them absolutely no harm, they took Elena's car through the woods. In the backseat, a shiver wracked the snow-kissed girl's willowy form, recalling the last time she willingly elected to visit the woods was the Back to School Party, where Vicki almost bled to death and Joshua attempted to sexually assault her. Snow hoped she wasn't wrong, or gullible, to put her trust in Stefan, and that he wasn't about to devour their blood and bury them somewhere in the woods – if that improbable scenario were to ever happen, Elena's dead derriere would most definitely haunt hers till the end of time.

"So, um, why exactly are we in the middle of nowhere?" Snow inquired hesitantly, endeavoring to quell her morbid thoughts by instigating conversation as they stepped out of Elena's car and approached a site of ruins.

A gleam of nostalgia passed through the pair of forest-greens as Stefan drank in the site, "This…didn't used to be nowhere. Used to be my home."

Twin gasps pervaded the air. "It looks so…" Elena struggled to find a word that aptly depicted the site of ruins that used to be considered a home.

"Old?" Stefan supplied. Elena nodded. "It's because they are," he smiled, tone matter of fact.

"Whoa, whoa, slam the brakes! How long have you been… uh, considered a Cullen," Snow inquired meekly, her violet eyes vividly portraying awed disbelief. Elena rolled her eyes fondly, her arms folded as she swallowed back a laugh – persistent was one of the _many_ adjectives used to describe Snow Silverstone, and the word didn't even do her much justice.

Stefan chuckled, "I've been 17 years old since 1864."

"Oh, my God," Elena gasped, wide-eyed.

Mimicking the brunette, Snow gasped, "Oh, _my_ God!" Shaking off her shock, a giggle slipped past her lips at her next thought, "You're like _the_ eternal teenager."

The vampire stared, unadulterated amusement consuming him as he recalled uttering something similar to Damon just a couple weeks back. Dialing back the humor, Stefan solemnly said, "You said you wanted to know. I'm not gonna hold anything back." Inhaling deeply, his gaze refocused on the ruins of what was once his home. "Half a century before the Boarding House was even built, this was my family's home. Damon and I… we were both born here. …The Salvatore brothers, best friends," he reminisced sadly, a bitter smile materializing on his handsome visage.

"You and Damon, best friends? Whenever you two're together, you radiate so much tension. I mean, no offense, it seems like Damon hates you," Snow revealed sadly. Her disclosure was followed by the sudden feeling of her heart aching… From the peripheral of her vision, she studied Stefan's pained expression, confused – _she didn't think she was __**that**__ attached to him… so, where did such profound pain came from?_

"What happened?" sympathetic brown swirls met forest greens orbs.

Stefan was silent for a moment before uttering one name, "Katherine." He tilted his head to meet the girls' curious stares, his expression one of grim acceptance, "Katherine happened."

Upon Stefan's confession, if one were to look at Elena's face, the apt expression that described her reaction is: '_…and the penny dropped_'. "You knew Katherine in 1864? Damon made it seem like…" Elena trailed off, sheepishly glancing at Snow, who looked much too smug and pleased with herself at her correct deduction. "I told you. I_ told _you! I had a feeling Damon was manipulating the situation for his own gain," and with that, the raven-haired girl playfully stuck her tongue out at her friend.

"Well, Snow was right," Stefan smiled at Snow in appreciation. "Damon was trying to make you think that… I was still heartbroken. He saw that I was happy with you, and he wanted to ruin it." Throughout his explanation, Snow's head automatically moved in assent, him merely confirming her suspicions.

Elena, her being an older sister, couldn't wrap her mind around Damon's…_hatred_, his-, his…_vendetta_. It struck the brunette as inconceivable, to wish your younger brother pain, harm, or heartbreak, and she voiced her feelings on the topic, "_All that_, it's all because you loved the same women 145 years ago?"

The vampire looked lost in a memory. "She wasn't just any girl…" he sounded mildly wistful.

"Tell us more about her. When I asked Damon, all he mentioned was her bad qualities," Snow piped up softly. She wanted to know more about this woman that had the ability, and apparently achieved success, in turning two close brothers into enemies, despite the century and a half that passed. _What was so special about her…?_

"There was the Founder's party… Katherine had us both ask her. She was seductive and used it as a weapon. She chose me," he abruptly revealed, focusing on Elena, and then Snow; although, Stefan looked displeased with the trajectory of his tale, like he held disdain over Katherine's selection of him over Damon. "I escorted her to the ball at the original Lockwood Mansion."

Comprehension dawned on Snow, "And that's when the relationship between you and Damon turned sour."

Glum, Stefan nodded.

Brown eyes alight, Elena added, "The first Founder's party, where you signed the registry."

"I didn't care that I had gotten something that my brother wanted. I didn't even care if it hurt him. I only knew that I wanted her," Stefan's face was the perfect picture of shame and guilt.

Snow found her incapable of _not_ expressing her sympathy for Damon, "Poor Damon. How upset was he?"

A smile graced Elena's lips, shaking her head at Snow's typical behavior – her heart had room for _everyone_, apparently even murderers suffering from a broken heart. For his part, Stefan looked incredulous, like Snow was an increasingly hard puzzle he couldn't, not even with the knowledge he had amassed over his hundred-and-sixty-years of life, decipher – she was too sweet, too kind and innocent; _too_ _forgiving_. He shook his head and carefully chose his next words, "That's the thing about Damon. He doesn't even get mad. He gets even."

"What do you mean?" Elena's brows furrowed in confusion.

Emitting a sigh, Stefan stared into nothing in particular as he desolately explained, his response much too laconic for the girls to properly comprehend the true danger the elder Salvatore posed, "What Damon wants, Damon usually gets. I didn't know it at the time, but, turns out that night… Katherine was with him, too."

"_What_? That's, that's _horrible_! I thought one of you dated her first, not at the _same time_," Snow didn't just _sound_ appalled, she _looked_ appalled, taking great umbrage at _both brothers_ behavior – no girl was worth destroying a bond between brothers, between _family_, in Snow's opinion. Elena shared her friend's exact sentiment, disgust coloring her olive complexion, "So Damon was lying? _He_ stole her from you, not the other way around?"

Stefan looked bitter when he next broke into speech, wholly disgusted with himself, "Turns out she wasn't ours to steal." Exhaling roughly through his nostrils, he stared between the girls, finally stating, "She was a vampire." Snow and Elena simply stood there, blinking at the vampire in shock – suffice to say, they _did not_ see that coming. Grimly, Stefan continued, "She could control my mind, _and_ Damon's. She compelled each of us to keep the secret from each other. She wanted all of us to be together. _Forever_." He let out a scoff, his tone reeking of bitterness, "It didn't work out that way, but, Damon and I, looks like we're stuck with each other. Like it or not."

And Snow could finally understand how Katherine destroyed the Salvatore brothers' profound bond – _compulsion_. Of course she was a vampire. It might be naïve of her, but Snow truly believed in 'family above all'. Nothing and no one, should or could, come between family. The snow-kissed girl's idealistic mind was _incapable_ of mentally grasping an otherwise scenario – it was unthinkable, and _wholly_ preposterous, and _downright inconceivable_.

The vampire approached the ruin and pulled out a loose brick. Silently trudging behind him, Snow and Elena gasped, instantly recognizing the piece of jewelry Stefan withdrew from a box. "Is that Damon's ring?" squinting, Elena's orbs flickered between the ring in Stefan's palm with the letter 'D' inscribed, to the ring adorning the middle finger of his right hand with the embedded letter 'S'. Stefan nodded, "I took it from him, but I have to give it back."

"No, don't. Stefan, keep it hidden, please," Snow's terrified violet orbs collided with regretful forest-greens. He genuinely felt regret over what he had to do. "Snow, if I don't give it to him, he'll retaliate in the only way he knows he can hurt me," Stefan prefaced in a sad tone.

Her curiosity waxed, Elena retorted, "And how is that?"

"By hurting you," came Stefan's prompt response, not even missing a beat, his alluring eyes brimming with solemnity as he pierced the brunette with the intensity of his stare which elicited a flush on her cheeks as she averted his gaze. Clasping her hands together, Snow pressed them to her chest and swooned, the incurable romantic in her mentally gushing over them, irregardless of the inappropriate timing and the danger they were currently experiencing. Stefan then met Snow's twinkling orbs, inwardly confused over the sudden change in her disposition from frightened to ecstatic – unlike the vampire, Elena had no problem reading her best friend, her eyes rolling aggressively in their sockets, despite her fond smile. "He hasn't been invited into your house yet, Snow. So for now, you're safe," he added.

Successfully distracted from the real-life romance happening right in front of her, Snow's eyes widened and she adamantly shook her head, her terror re-emerging. "It doesn't take much to get an invite from Lucille, Stefan. One glance at a pretty boy and she allows him in. She's been searching for a while for handsome, rich men for Haisley and Paisley," she imparted, nose wrinkling in disgust. Elena, too, looked repulsed at the mere thought of the step-bitches in a relationship – _they'd eat the poor sucker alive_.

After a moment of silence, Elena couldn't help but ask, the thought of having her mind manipulated nagging her, "The mind control, you said Katherine used… Do you ever do that to me?"

The reaction to her inquiry was a vehement denial. His lips pulled into a brief smile, "No. That necklace, it contains an herb called vervain. It protects you from being compelled. I wanted to protect you from Damon's influence. _But_ I also wanted to… protect you from me." The brunette then found herself on the receiving end of serious forest-green eyes, "Elena, you should _never_ take that necklace off, because no matter what happens after today, no matter how you feel about me, you'll know that you were free to make your own choice."

Snow whimpered, "Do you-, do you know if Damon ever compelled me?"

"No," he promptly shook his head. While Damon may be capable of many acts of _evil_, one factor that immensely surprised Stefan since Damon's unforeseen arrival at Mystic Falls, was his treatment of the Silverstone Heiress; Damon's treatment of Snow reminded him of when they were human, and of how he treasured and protected and _cared_ for him before Katherine entered the picture and destroyed his humanity and their bond. "He never did… But now that you know about us, it's dangerous for you to walk around without vervain. I'll get you some when I return to the Boarding House and deal with Damon."

Despite her reservations, Elena smiled fondly at the exchange; Snow didn't have many people in her life that cared about her safety, or even _for her_ in general, and she knew that, whether or not things worked out between her and Stefan – _romantically, that is_ – he would continue to protect her sweet-natured friend.

The violet-eyed girl's mega-watt smile was on full display and she thanked Stefan.

The trio, however, received an unwelcome surprise once reconvened at the Gilbert House. Jeremy and Matt were congregated in the living room, their expressions heavy with bemusement as they stared at a distraught Vicki.

"Vicki? Oh my _God_, are you okay?" Snow turned her attention to the boys, "What's wrong with her?"

Hearing and seeing Snow, Vicki's entire demeanor changed into happiness, and she rushed over to engulf her in a desperate hug. "Snow! I don't feel so good," she cried, tightly clinging to her as though frightened she would disappear.

Stefan advanced toward them, his steps cautious and his expression taut, "Snow, back up. Vicki, look at me. Focus." Confused, Snow obeyed and, while she took a step back, she kept a hand interlaced with Vicki's. The vampire cradled Vicki's face in his hands and stared deeply into her chestnut eyes, "You're gonna be fine. Everything's gonna be fine." He briefly slammed his eyes close at the reality of the situation – of what _Damon had done_. Opening them, forest-greens fixated on Jeremy and Matt, both of whom were portraying bewilderment and terror, respectively. "Guys, take her up to bed. Shut the blinds. She's gonna be ok. Come on. Come on," he steered her toward the boys and, once they disappeared upstairs, he allowed his grimace to show.

"You know what's wrong with her?" Elena sounded accusing. At Stefan's grim nod, Snow cried out, "What's wrong with her?"

Swallowing tightly, Stefan admitted, "She's transitioning."

Confused and deeply affected by the tension and fear and _pain_ that permeated the entire house, Snow alternated her tearful gaze from Elena to Stefan. "Transitioning to what?" there was a tremor in Elena's voice. However, it was Stefan's following words that sent multiple chills down her spine: "A vampire."

"No. _No_. _No_! _Why_? _Who would—_!?" Snow would've broken down right there, in the middle of the Gilbert's living room, if it weren't for Elena grabbing her in a tight embrace, carrying most of her weight.

Dragging a hand down his face, Stefan apologetically said, "Damon must have gotten to her. She's new. She hasn't completed her transformation yet."

Desperate, Snow reached a hand out and gripped the hem of Stefan's jacket, unconsciously twisting it in fear, "H-How does she do that?"

Reluctantly, he revealed, "She has to feed on human blood."

"And what if she _doesn't_?" Elena dreaded the answer; still new to the existence of vampires, she found the thought of drinking blood to survive unfathomable.

"She'll die," was the succinct response, prompting an echo of Snow's sharp intake of breath. "She may only have a few hours," Stefan proceeded with the disclosure of unending bad news, sad eyes fixated on Snow's faint form who had yet to be released from Elena's vice hold.

Gasping, chocolate orbs grew wide and traveled to the floor above, "She's upstairs with Jeremy and Matt right now."

Cue more awful revelations from the vampire: "It's okay. She doesn't know what's happening to her yet. Right now, she doesn't remember anything. A part of her is still human, but slowly, the deeper she gets into the transition, the memories will start to come back, and then she'll know she has to make the choice."

Suddenly, Jeremy and Matt hurtled down the stairs in a hurry, yelling about Vicki's freak out and subsequent disappearance. Separating from the group, Matt elected to search for Vicki in his car, hoping that she would be waiting for him in their house. Stefan, on the other hand, began tracking her down with his vampire senses, thus leaving Snow and the Gilbert siblings to anxiously wait for any news.

"I'm scared, Elena. What if they don't find her," Snow whimpered. However, before Elena could give her words of reassurance, the doorbell rang, cutting her off. Arms linked, the best friends approached the front door, opening it to find Damon smirking at them in all his evil glory. Recoiling at the sight, Snow let out a squeak of fear, and Elena simultaneously moved to slam the door in his smirking face – and if it wiped the irritating smirk off his face, it'd be a great bonus. Unfortunately, her human strength was nothing compared to Damon's superior strength and vampire reflexes and thus, the door bounced back, courtesy of his foot in the threshold.

In a strained voice, Elena said, "Jeremy. Go upstairs." While she addressed her brother, she didn't release Damon from her glare.

Lips still smirking, Damon's eyes sought out a pair of terrified violets before quickly moving on to meet Elena's glare head on, more amused than intimidated by the front the brunette was putting, "You're afraid of me. I'm gonna go out on a _limb_ here and guess. Stefan _finally_ 'fessed up." Again, he redirected his gaze to Snow, "Though I must say, I am surprised he included Silverstone."

"Stay away from us," Elena shouted, an arm springing around her terrified friend.

Batting his eyes, Damon donned an innocent expression, "Hey, there's no need to be rude. I'm just looking for Stefan. May I come in? Oh, wait. Of course I can. I've been invited." Smirking, he pushed the door open and gracefully crossed the threshold. His actions prompted Elena and Snow to instantaneously and simultaneously back up in fear, the latter's eyes growing wider as they brimmed with the beginning formation of tears. "We can cut to the chase if you want. I'm not gonna kill you… _right_ _now_," looking at Snow was a mistake; he couldn't bear seeing those unique eyes fill with tears _because of him_. For some _annoying_ reason, he didn't like it when Snow Silverstone cried. "You too. That wouldn't serve my greater agenda. So, where's Stefan?" he made sure to keep his eyes on the brunette – he had a reputation to uphold, after all, and that girl made him soft.

"He's out looking for Vicki," Elena spat, her tone oozing with hatred.

"_Why_? Why did you do it?" Snow whispered, profound sadness radiating from her.

Damon rolled his eyes and blatantly ignored Snow, "Don't look at me with those judgey little eyes. Girl's gonna thank me for what I did to her."

"Did you thank Katherine?" Elena snarled through gritted teeth.

Taken aback, Damon inspected the brunette, forcing nonchalance on his countenance, "Mmm. Got the whole life story, huh?"

"I got enough," Elena folded her arms, her glare unwavering.

A chuckle left him, "Oh, I doubt that. Tell my brother I'm looking for him." Turning to leave, just as he reached the door, he looked at the girls from over his shoulder, electric-blue eyes flickering between them as he taunted, "Oh, tip for later, be careful who you invite in the house." And he left, the door slamming shut, leaving an ominous silence in the room.

After an hour filled with worriment, the girls relocated to the front porch, unable to handle the stifling ambience in the house. However, they barely sat outside for five minutes before Stefan came up to them, his shirt stained with blood. "Oh my God! You're bleeding," Snow gasped, her hands flying upward to cover her mouth.

"I'm okay. But Snow… I'm sorry. She fed and then I lost her," Stefan apologetically addressed Snow, prompting the waterworks to begin again. Her sadness over Vicki's fate was too intense, it completely slipped her mind that somebody must have died or been harmed in order for Vicki's transition to be complete. The vampire kept his eyes on Snow, his voice ringing with a promise, "I'll take care of her, Snow. I'll find her, and I will show her that she can live like I do. I will make sure that she does not hurt anybody. I promise you." Forest-green collided with chocolate brown, "Both of you."

Her face soaked with tears, Snow nodded, "I'm going to give you two a moment alone. Elena, I'm sleeping over again. It's after twelve."

Elena nodded sympathetically, "You want me to come with?"

"No, I need a moment alone."

Making herself comfortable on Elena's bed, the pure-hearted girl cried her heart out, her sadness too deep and too intense to bottle inside. The emotions emanating from everyone was killing her, and her heart couldn't handle it anymore. And to make things worse, Vicki's fate was unknown – Vicki was a girl she looked up to as a big sister, despite her irresponsible and impetuous tendencies. The elder Donovan made it a habit to protect her and look after her when she started working at the Grill at fourteen…

Snow Silverstone couldn't handle losing anyone, not after she had lost her parents, and Grayson and Miranda Gilbert… She had a shortage of loved ones in her bleak life, and one by one, they were dropping like flies. Snow was terrified that soon, she'll be the last one standing – forever alone till Death came to collect her.

* * *

"_**Please, call me Katherine.**_**" **_**– **__**Katherine Pierce**_

"_**I'm at the sizzler. I had the buffet. Where's my ring?**_**" **_**– **__**Damon Salvatore**_

"_**What, did you FedEx it to Rome?! Where is it? I want my ring, Stefan, or my next stop's Elena's. Or better yet, I'll just drop by our favorite gal, Snow. That girl's so annoyingly nice, I bet you I can get her to willingly pop an artery for me.**_**" **_**– **__**Damon Salvatore**_

"_**Who needs rules?**_**" **_**– **__**Katherine Pierce**_

"_**Your face, it was like a demon.**_**" **_**– **__**Stefan Salvatore**_

"_**You have no idea of the future I have planned for us, Stefan… You, me, and Damon. No rules.**_**" **_**– **__**Katherine Pierce**_

"_**I'm the screwed-up one. Matt's got it so easy. He's the golden boy. I mean, he's gonna get a football scholarship and marry Elena and have a lawn mower and some babies, and when I think of my future, I just come up blank. Snow's the only person in this godforsaken town that actually sees me for who I am and doesn't compare me to Matt. She actually looks up to me, God only knows why.**_**" **_**– **__**Vicki Donovan**_

"_**I gave you today just like you asked. And I understand that you would never do anything to hurt me, or Snow, and I promise I will keep your secret, but…I can't be with you, Stefan. I'm sorry. I…I just can't…**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert**_

"_**Why does everyone die on me, Lena?**_**" **_**– **__**Snow Silverstone**_

* * *

**A/N:**** Poor Snow, huh? So, do you want Vicki to survive, yay or nay?**

**And what do you think about Snow? Is she normal? Or is there something different about her… something supernatural? Why do the vampires have a soft spot for her? Is it universal, or…**

**I'm sorry the plot is identical to canon for now, I'm hoping with Snow's inclusion the chapters are entertaining to read. I promise, however, that now the truth regarding vampire is out, canon divergence is approaching! I've so many changes in store for you guys, so just be patient, and in a few chapters, a lot will change in the TVD plotline AND, our favorite Winchester brothers will join the scene!**

**On the plus side, a mystery will be revealed NEXT CHAPTER!**

**R&R.**


	8. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:**** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters, ideas and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

_**CHAPTER 7:**_

**TAKING A BITE OUT OF HALLOWEEN**

* * *

**Gone (**_**adjective**_**): no longer present; departed**

"_**Gone. The saddest word in the language. In any language.**_**"**

"_**How can the dead be truly dead when they still live in the souls of those who are left behind?**_**"**

"_**When you're gone, the pieces of my heart are missing you. When you're gone, the face I came to know is missing, too. When you're gone, the words I need to hear to always get me through the day and make it okay, I miss you.**_**"**

* * *

Cradling a mug of tea in her hands, eyelids dipped to a close, masking the pair of entrancing violets from view as she took a long sip of the calming beverage. The instant Snow stepped into the Gilbert's house, Jenna took one short look at her and gave her a pityingly "_oh, honey!_" before ducking behind the island that separated the kitchen from the rest of the house, and promptly bustled around. The next thing the sleep-deprived girl knew, a mug of steaming tea was carefully deposited into her hands as the older woman steered her into one of the plushiest sofas in the living room.

Emitting a forlorn sigh, Snow imbibed more of the now lukewarm liquid just as thundering footsteps descended the stairs, the Gilbert siblings' argument resonating through. Jeremy barely spared her a glance, merely mumbling a grouchy greeting as he stormed into the kitchen for his morning beverage. In contrast, Elena pinned her under the full force of her knowing, compassionate stare; a sympathetic sigh emanating from her, the brunette made a beeline to her friend and curled up beside her, patting her knee in commiseration, "Must be bad if you're having tea."

Defensive, Snow pouted, "What? Maybe I was in the mood for tea."

"Who're you talking to?" faking offense, Elena then let out a mild chuckle, chocolate orbs brimming with knowledge. "I've known you _forever_, and you, my friend, are a creature of habit. Coffee in the morning; afternoon, _eh_, depends on your mood. Night? Definitely tea and you're not picky about the type or flavor, either. The only reason you'd start your morning off with _tea_, is if you're stressed. So, spill, Snow Silverstone," concluding her speech, Elena relinquished the empty mug from her _surprisingly _tight grip and placed it on the nearby table.

Grumbling, the snow-kissed girl's explanation was summed up into one name, "Vicki."

And with that, both girls allowed the silence to engulf them. Snow laid her head on the brunette's shoulder who in turn, had the side of her face propped against the top of her head. Thoughts regarding the latest tragedy consumed them, attacking their conscience with no mercy – exactly _one month_ had passed since Damon Salvatore killed Vicki Donovan and turned her into a vampire in a fit of, according to Stefan, _boredom!_, and while most of the denizens in Mystic Falls were starting to forget about the troublesome girl's disappearance, believing she was merely following in the footsteps of her flighty mother, Matt was confident that his sister would _never_ abandon him. For the past month, Matt's been spearheading a relentless search for Vicki alongside Jeremy and Sheriff Forbes.

For her part, Snow hated lying – the fact that Matt and Jeremy were searching endlessly while, the entire time, Vicki remained safely ensconced behind the closed doors of the Salvatore Boarding House, didn't sit right with her, and despite Stefan's constant updates, lying to _everyone _and her incessant worry over Vicki's capability to survive vampirism had taken its toll on the soft-hearted girl and it was beginning to consume her every conscious and unconscious moment.

"….wait, shouldn't you be going to school?" Elena's patronizing comment snapped Snow out of her reverie. Blinking back to the present, Snow allowed the brunette to rearrange their seating position in order to properly confront her brother, the latter of which stood glaring at Elena by the front door. Too lost in her depressing thoughts, Snow had, apparently, spaced out on the beginning of the siblings' conversation, which quickly escalated into an argument. Unfortunately, the growing hostility between the Gilbert siblings was a development of Vicki's 'disappearance,' the antagonistic behavior Jeremy portrayed almost _always_ a result of Elena's attempt to waylay him from pursuing leads on Vicki and simultaneously encourage him to continue life normally.

His expression one of potent disbelief, Jeremy's derision could be heard loud and clear, "What? You're kidding me, right?"

Unwilling to back down and completely prepared to risk her brother's ire to keep him safe and _more importantly_ ignorant of the world's dark and terrifying secret, Elena said, "You shouldn't skip school. If they find her, we'll know. That's what cellphones are for." She needlessly waved her cellphone in the air.

Sighing, Snow grabbed the discarded and empty mug from the table and retreated into kitchen, wanting to avoid the tension. While Snow _wholeheartedly _understood Elena's reasons, the brunette's obsession with keeping Jeremy ignorant of the existence of vampires and of Vicki's subsequent transformation into one had blinded her from her the fact that he harbored intense feelings for Vicki, and, unlike them, Jeremy had no clue that the girl he was in love with was _relatively_ safe and in Mystic Falls.

Despite having sought solace in the kitchen, Snow still heard Jeremy spit out, "Yeah, your lips keep movin'. I don't know why." The ensuing reverberation of the front door forcefully slamming shut behind him had the raven-haired girl whip around, startled. Soon after, violet eyes collided with a pair of apologetic chocolate browns.

"Sorry you had to see…and hear that," Elena looked utterly woebegone, planting herself with an exasperated huff on one of the swiveling bar stools by the island. Elbows propped on the island, the brunette proceeded to cradle her face between her opened palms and pout at her friend.

Snow smiled sadly, "It's nothing I haven't seen before." Which was true. Since her toddler days, the raven-haired girl had always been a recurring face in the Gilbert Household, treated and recognized as a member of their family, and therefore, she was no stranger to their sibling squabbling. Although, in retrospect, whatever dispute occurred between them had never been as bad compared to after their parents' death. The relationship between Elena and Jeremy started to heal after the reciprocation of Vicki's feelings; however, now with her disappearing, Jeremy was quick to anger and was always looking to start a fight, which was only fueled by Elena's apparent disapproval of their relationship. Ever since Snow and Elena discovered the existence of vampires, they were rarely seen apart and limited their interactions with Caroline and Bonnie, as they despised their constant need to lie to them, and so, Snow spent most of her days at the Gilbert's, and therefore had front-row seats to their constant bickering. Clasping the brunette's hands in hers, Snow adopted a considerate tone, "Lena, you know I'm with you _one hundred percent_, but... you gotta be more understanding. Put yourself in Jer's shoes. If someone you loved were missing, would _you_ give up?"

Pout _completely_ evanished, Elena's brows furrowed into a scowl – _sometimes, it was so annoying when Snow made sense and consequently proved you wrong_. "I just, I _don't want him_ to spiral out of control because of Vicki," she retorted defensively.

"I know, sweetie, but he's _in love_," she patted her hand twice before pulling away to gather her cellphone and book bag. "And don't forget, unlike us, Jeremy doesn't know Vicki's okay… or well, as okay as one can be when one's forced to live under the same roof as one's murderer," she blurted out in one breath, culminating in a sharp exhale of breath.

Elena scrutinized her friend, "You want to see her, don't you?"

"I don't think I can spend another sleepless night worrying about her. If I do, I'll end up fainting from sleep deprivation," Snow rubbed an eye with a clenched fist, her countenance and the slump of her shoulders dog-tired. "I mean, Stefan's been great by updating us and so, _so_ thoughtful, don't get me wrong, but…I _need_ to see her for myself."

Laughing, Elena jumped to her feet, grabbed her purse and extended her hand out, her eyes crinkling in a smile, "Come on, then. To Salvatore's Boarding House we go."

* * *

Ironically, the duo skipped school – _oh, if Jeremy could see them now_ – and in record time, Elena's car sat stationary on the sidewalk in front of the Boarding House. Climbing out, they approached the ominous-looking front door and tentatively knocked – from an outsider's perspective, the house's exterior was magnificent; perhaps to them its appearance looked ominous because they knew it was a vampire's lair. However, Elena's knuckles barely brushed against the door, when it flew open.

Standing before them was the very vampire Snow was most terrified of running into, and she clutched her friend's hand in a crushing grip. Perpetual smirk on his lips, Damon pierced the duo with intense eyes, his stare fixating a beat longer on Snow. Oddly enough, the split-second a frightened whimper escaped her, Damon automatically released her from his intimidating stare and settled on Elena, who met his scrutiny bravely, her chocolate orbs practically spitting fire.

"Is Stefan here?" Elena snapped before he could get a word in.

Eyes lazily drifting to Snow, he causally drawled, "Yep!"

In an effort to distract him from Snow, Elena abrasively snarled, "Where is he?"

Again, Damon released Snow from the full weight of his electric-blue eyes. Wholly focused on the brunette, his smirk relaxed into a lazy grin, and if he weren't a proud murderer, one who killed her friend out of boredom and snacked and abused her other friend for reasons still unknown to her, Snow would have admitted that he looked endearing – but currently, despite Snow not being the type of person to hold a grudge, she was stubbornly holding one of gargantuan proportion against Damon Salvatore.

"And good morning to you, little miss 'I'm on a mission'," was the vampire's responding quip, not the least bit affected by the amount of hostility the duo before him were radiating. In fact, he turned to smirk at Snow, baiting her, "It's been a while, expected you a month ago."

The raven-haired girl flinched and took a diminutive step back. Tightening her grip on Snow's hand, Elena fixated him with a vicious glare, "How can you be so arrogant and glib after everything you've done?"

"And how can you be so brave and _stupid_ to call a vampire arrogant and glib?" Damon retorted, half-irritated, half-amused. Snow no longer held his interest, but the spitfire that's been doing all the talking.

Unafraid of the volatile vampire, Elena lifted her head, chin jutting out, and confidently stated, "If you wanted me dead, I'd be dead."

Feeling her anxiety rise, Snow tugged her hand, her voice a mere whisper, "_Elena_…"

Damon concluded the staring contest with a laconic agreement to Elena's astute observation, "Yes, you would."

"But I'm not," Elena's confidence skyrocketed, disregarding Snow's incessant tugging on her hand in an effort to silence her and her idiotic attempt to provoke the dangerous vampire. Electric-blue honed in on Snow's failed efforts before they lifted to smirk at the pair of terrified violets. Head inclined toward the stupidly brave brunette, Damon taunted, "_Yet_. You should listen to your friend more. She, at least, is familiar with the concept of self-preservation."

A spell of silence met his statement.

Giving off the impression that they were communicating telepathically, Elena and Snow maintained eye contact, all the while stubbornly ignoring Damon's piercing stare at the latter. Steeling herself, Snow finally found it in her to meet Damon's intimidating stare, her unexpected bravery surprising him and forcing him to maintain her entrancing gaze. "Where's Stefan?" she softly inquired.

"He's upstairs singing 'The rain in Spain'. Knock yourselves out," slipping on his black leather jacket, Damon winked at the soft-spoken girl before he strode past them and vanished from the premises.

Trading looks of uncertainty, Snow and Elena cautiously closed the door behind them and, arms linked, they slowly passed a number of barren rooms, the brunette quietly vocalizing Stefan's name. Suddenly, the vampire in question materialized in a blur, kind and concerned eyes flickering between them.

Not beating around the bush, Snow inquired after Vicki, sighing in relief when Stefan promptly gestured to the floor above, the upward curve of his lips instilling her with calm thoughts. Elena, however, didn't share her friend's sense of relief. "What happens now? Because my brother is out there searching for her with the rest of the town. What do I tell him?" she demanded, her attitude showing; her initial concern was _Jeremy_, nothing else mattered but his emotional, physical, and psychological well-being.

Stefan sighed; he looked exhausted. "I'm working with her, but it's gonna take time. She's a very volatile and impulsive personality. She's a drug user. I mean, all that's gonna play a part in how she responds to this," Stefan slowly laid bare the facts, not bothering to hold anything back from them; knowing Snow and Elena, and having grown used to their company, they wouldn't appreciate any of his attempts to downplay the reality of the situation and coddle them with empty platitudes.

"So she's a vampire _with issues_?" Elena emitted a sound that resembled a humorless snort. Fist planted on her hip, with her other hand, she wildly gesticulated between herself and Snow, "What are we supposed to do? Because we're both lying to everyone we care about. What's gonna happen to her?"

"I'm gonna keep her here with me until I know that she's safe," Stefan revealed firmly, his features weary. Truth be told, he was going stir-crazy, stuck in these four walls with a drug-addict newborn vampire with a penchant for moaning and groaning over the unfairness of her life, and his nigh-insensitive brother who had been strutting smugly throughout the house in the last month whilst waxing poetry about the benefits of human blood, as company. In fact, his only moments of reprieve where his phone calls with either of the human girls before him, and the rare visits he made to school in order to keep up appearances; though his attendance was spotty as he couldn't risk leaving Vicki alone with Damon.

On cue, Vicki vaulted over the banister, looking tired and irritable, "How long is that?"

"Vicki!" Snow squealed, clapping her hands together in exuberance before leaping forward. Seeing Vicki, all the worries and fears that clouded her vanished. Seeing the familiar violet orbs light up at the sight of her and hearing the genuine happiness in her quasi-sister's tone prompted Vicki's grumpy demeanor to transform into wholehearted delight, "_Snow_!"

The unlikely friends gathered each other in an almost suffocating embrace. Elena, scared for her kind-hearted friend's safety, moved forward to separate them if it weren't for Stefan's quick reflexes as he wound an arm around her waist, preventing her from getting on the bad side of the newly turned vampire with addiction issues.

Unaware of the turmoil occurring behind her, Snow happily cried out, "Vicki! I've been so worried about you. I wanted to call so many times, but you know how much I _hate_ lying and Matt kept asking if I heard from you, and I _didn't_ want to have to lie to his face—"

Cutting off the younger girl's ramblings, Vicki smiled sadly and with the pads of her thumbs, wiped her tears, "Come on little sis, I'm fine. Look I'm here. You know I hate it when you cry."

"I know," Snow let out a wet chuckle. "I've been scared for you."

While Stefan appeared slightly confused, he didn't share Elena's astonishment. Turning to meet his gaze, Elena asked, "How come Vicki isn't feeding from her?"

Despite knowing the answer, Stefan nevertheless stepped forward, his eyes, full of potent curiosity, flickering between the girls that had yet to disentangle from their embrace, "Vicki, do you feel out of control? There's no overwhelming urge to feed from Snow?"

Peeling her head back to gauge the newly turned vampire, unlike her reaction to Damon whenever he stood at close proximity to her, Snow appeared unafraid. On the other hand, Vicki glared at Stefan and scoffed, as though appalled at his assumption, "_Of course not_! Snow's like my little sister. Why would I?"

"You don't feel like your throat is on fire?" puzzled, Stefan resumed his scrutiny of Snow, reminding her of the Salvatore brothers' odd reaction to her the night Caroline and Damon crashed the small get-to-know-Stefan dinner party at Elena's.

Vicki frowned in thought, realization belatedly dawning on her. "Actually no… Huh, _weird_," she shrugged, brushing the oddity off.

Hesitantly, Snow asked, "Is something wrong?"

An unconvincing smile on his face, Stefan shook his head, "No, no. Nothing."

Deciding to let it go…_for now_, Snow allowed Vicki to link arms with her and, as they made their way to the dining room, the dark-haired girl recited everything the newly turned vampire missed during her one month stint in confinement, or vampire rehab – or _whatever_ Stefan was calling it. In contrast, Stefan and Elena shadowed them at a slower pace, their features tight with concern and confusion, respectively.

"Stefan, what is it?" Elena whispered, chocolate orbs resolutely following her best friend and the new vampire, watching them like a hawk. Concealing a fond smile at the brunette's mother-henning tendency, he shared one of his concerns, "Last night, Vicki found Tyler and couldn't control herself. Around Snow however, Vicki acts human."

She couldn't comprehend why it was a cause for concern; to Elena, it was good news. "Isn't that a good thing?" her brows knit together.

"Yeah, _yeah_," shaking his head, Stefan forced a smile. "Just forget about it. I'm probably just being paranoid. Their strong bond must play a huge role, or something," he dismissed. Leaving Elena in the dining room with Snow and Vicki, he went to bring coffee. He returned almost immediately, balancing four mugs in a tray, which elicited a megawatt smile out of Snow, a tightlipped one from Elena, and a wordless grunt from Vicki.

Attempting to alleviate her mood, Elena teased her friend, "Look at you, your appetite's returned to normal, huh." Snow responded by sticking her tongue out and hugging the coffee close to her chest. "Real mature," the brunette snickered.

Smiling at their antics, Stefan focused on Vicki, "Coffee is our friend. It's the caffeine. It circulates through our veins, and it warms our body so we're not so cold to the touch."

Vicki lifted an eyebrow, observing the murky brown liquid in distaste, "Well, what if I wanna drink human blood?"

"_Vicki_!" Snow gasped, horrified.

But Vicki shrugged a shoulder in indifference, her expression artless, "What? It's an innocent question, Snow." The trio, however, didn't refrain from staring at her, prompting her eyes to roll aggressively in their sockets, "_Sue me_, I'm curious."

"You're going to have to learn to live with that urge and fight it on a daily basis one day at a time," Stefan imparted, tone solemn.

Exasperated, and more than a touch hostile, Vicki sneered, "_Oh God_! Don't start with that whole twelve steps thing. School counselor has been down that road, and it doesn't work for me."

Quashing down his irritation, Stefan prompted, "It _can_ work. It's _your_ choice, Vicki." He had lost track of the amount of times he repeated this exact sentence to the new vampire; he was trying to be optimistic, and if it weren't for Elena and Snow, and the promise he made them, he would've given up his fruitless endeavors to coach Vicki in the right path probably two days into her newfound vampirism. Vicki Donovan was stubborn and a drug addict, two unfortunate traits to be mixed together that followed her in the afterlife.

Unimpressed, Vicki folded her arms together, the sneer still painting her lips as she stared him down, "So you've _never_ tasted human blood?"

"Not in a long time," Stefan rebuffed.

Curious, Vicki probed, "How long?"

This abrupt line of questioning and subsequent insight into Stefan's life undeniably attracted Elena's undivided attention and she found that she couldn't take her eyes off of the vampire that managed to gain her affection.

"Years and years," Stefan responded laconically. "I'm not proud of my past behavior."

The newly-turned vampire groaned into the palms of her hands before clutching at her hair, yanking on it slightly. "Does this sketchy feeling ever go away? It's like I have a massive hangover. This daylight thing is a bitch. I need more blood. Where's your bathroom? I have to pee. Why do I have to pee? I thought I was dead," Vicki rambled as she left the room in search for a bathroom. Despite the circumstances, Snow giggled into her hand, eyes twinkling at the older girl's retreating back.

Feeling awkward by Vicki's parting words, Stefan scratched the back of his head. Searching for a distraction, he grabbed the empty mug on the table that, five minutes ago, had been chock-full of animal blood, "I'm going to, uh… I'm gonna get her some more, all right. I'll be quick."

No sooner had Stefan utilized his enhanced speed and left the Boarding House, did Vicki re-enter, hair slightly unkempt and demeanor grouchy. "False alarm," she groaned, eyes fixated on the screen of her cellphone. She continued rambling as she blindly deposited herself on the chair she recently abandoned, "My body's feeling really funky. It's a good funk, but it's weird."

Overcome with a suspicious feeling, Elena, folded arms perched on the table, leaned into them, a flash of worry in her eyes as they flickered to Snow and focused on Vicki, "Who are you calling?"

"Jeremy," was Vicki's nonchalant response, wholly distracted by her cellphone. A zing of concern resonated through Snow, eyes wide on Elena, but she was too late. Elena's protective inclination toward her brother prompted her to forget that she was currently attempting to forbid a capricious, newly-turned vampire from doing something. "Vicki, you _can't _see Jeremy anymore," the brunette ensured her tone was firm and unforgiving.

Snow reached out to place a warning hand on Elena's arm, "Elena, don't."

"Oh _come on_, don't you start. I'm gonna see whoever I wanna see," Vicki sneered, glaring at Elena from beneath the shadows of her furrowed brows. Undeterred, Elena delivered a hypothetical, yet completely possible, scenario, "Even though you could hurt him?"

Warning lights flashed before Snow's eyes, a mantra of _stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it!_ echoing loudly in her head. It was like watching a car accident about to happen, and wholly powerless to prevent it.

"I would _never_ hurt Jeremy!" Insulted, Vicki gestured a hand toward a rapidly paling Snow, "I didn't hurt Snow!"

Sympathetic, yet adamant, Elena shook her head, "I know you think that but I can't take the risk. What about Tyler yesterday? You nearly hurt him. You're gonna have to let Jeremy go." Her brother's safety came before Vicki's needs. It was her duty to protect him, from everything and everyone. Scoffing, Vicki snarled, "Oh really? And how long have you been preparing the '_you're not good enough_' speech? I'm assuming it predates the whole vampire thing."

The tension suffusing the air threatened to suffocate Snow. She frantically rubbed her temples, "Guys, please stop."

Ignoring Snow's pleas, Elena squarely met Vicki's glare, "All I'm saying is Jeremy is _not_ getting involved in any of this. I mean it, Vicki."

The ensuing incident prompted a sharp gasp to leave Snow's parted lips and she abruptly shot out of her seat, the chair crashing to the floor in the process. Vicki finally snapped; before Elena could do so much as blink, Vicki had her pinned to wall, the air to her lungs blocked courtesy of the immovable hand curled around her neck. Snow felt Elena's fear wash over her and she quickly sprang to her best friend's side, attempting and failing to extract her hand from around Elena's delicate, totally breakable, _human _neck. "Vicki, _please_! _Vicki_, stop! _Stop it_, let her go," Snow cried, though just like her past experience with Joshua, she went ignored.

Hatred burned in Vicki's eyes as she glared daggers at Elena, and if looks could kill, the brunette would be dead…_if the moody vampire didn't strangle her to death…or snap her neck with her bare hand_. Shaking off the morbid image, Snow pleaded with her quasi-sister to release her best friend – to no avail. Snarling with potent rage, Vicki sneered, "Let's get _one thing straight_, you _perky_ little _bitch_. You had my brother whipped for fifteen years. _Fifteen years_! And then you dumped him. When I look at you that is _all_ I see, just so you know. And I'm going to see Jeremy whenever _I want_ to see Jeremy, because I have some fun new toys to play with, and I won't think twice about ripping your little head off. You got it?"

And for the first time in her life, Snow feared Victoria Donovan.

Concluding her vitriolic speech – the correct term being _threat _– Vicki detached her hand from Elena's neck. Leaving the room, Vicki threw Snow an apologetic glance from over her shoulder but Snow only had eyes for her hurt friend. Rushing to Elena's side, Snow threw her arms around her in a desperate embrace. "Elena, are you okay?" Snow's concern reached the point of tears, sad orbs watching as Elena coughed and massaged her aching throat. "I warned you not to provoke her. She's got a short fuse, Lena," she lightly rebuked.

At that moment, Stefan arrived, a mug of animal blood in hand. Frantic, he absentmindedly left it on the table and approached the girls, pools of forest green traveling from a tearful Snow to Elena, her hoarse coughs and the fact that Vicki was nowhere to be seen, painting a pretty gruesome picture. "What happened?"

"She threatened me," came Elena's hoarse response, eyes squinting in pain as she coughed out.

Dragging a hand down his face, Stefan sighed, internally beating himself up for leaving them alone and unprotected with Vicki. He miscalculated – just because Vicki acted weirdly human around Snow, it didn't automatically make Elena immune. Stefan's mistake was his presumption. "She's on edge. Imagine every sense in your body operating at super speed. I mean, she's uncomfortable in her own skin. And then when you throw in her other issues…" Stefan trailed off, uncomfortable.

Desperate violet orbs locked on Stefan's sympathetic greens, "How long before it settles? Hours? Days? Weeks?"

Lips pursed, Stefan sighed, "There's no rule book."

"Well, how long before you learned to control it?" Elena inquired, hoping for the best.

"A while," Stefan vaguely offered. "But I didn't have anybody helping me. I had to do it on my own. The thing is, it's hard to resist certain people especially when you're new, and it's difficult to separate your feelings. Love, lust, anger, desire… it can all blur into one urge, hunger," he revealed ominously.

Tears flooded Snow's vision, "So then Vicki's screwed… What does this mean for her exactly?"

He tore his gaze from Snow, the mere sight of her crying making him want to rip somebody's head off. "It means that Jeremy can't see her, not now. She might not be able to resist him, and she could hurt him," Stefan warned them.

"If that's the case, how come she was able to control herself around me?" Snow blinked, confused. Elena nodded in agreement and both girls stared expectantly at Stefan. Gaze averted, Stefan succinctly said, "I don't…_know_."

Sighing, Elena accepted his response. Snow, however, could sense his dishonesty.

* * *

"Well, well, well, _Cinderella_ finally grants us with her presence," the all brawn no brain twin, Paisley, sneered. Haisley, the elder Styne twin – _by five minutes_ – known for her cruel and callous disposition, blatantly glared at Snow's arrival, dark orbs almost forming slits, "It was much better without you around, sucking all the oxygen from the house, _Cinderslut_."

Flinching at the latest name-calling from Haisley, the downtrodden girl emitted a sad sigh – hating the fact that she had to return to the house of her forefather's that was now infested with cruelty and darkness – softly closed the front door and turned to confront the twins. She barely managed to put a foot through the threshold before Haisley and Paisley recommenced their hounding. "What do you want?"

"We were waiting for you," Paisley let out an unladylike snort of laughter, forcing Snow to repress a cringe.

Sometimes, Snow Silverstone pitied the Styne Twins for their profound misfortune of having inherited every single ugly trait and facial feature from both sets of parents, leaving absolutely nothing good, beautiful or remarkable about them from the inside _and _the outside – even Lucille, with her consuming passion regarding maintaining social etiquette, constantly brushing up on the many changes in the rules, failed _abysmally_ in training her daughters proper conduct, for she birthed a pair of stubborn Neanderthals. But those moments of pity were few and far between, because just when Snow began to sympathize with the two, they'd turn around and unleash their wrath on her.

Paisley's face was caught in a rictus between malice and unholy delight, letting Snow know that in her absence, the two had been up to no good, "_Mhmm_, in our duties as your _loving_ sisters, we realized you had nothing to wear for tonight. So, we spoke to Mother about finding you a costume for the Halloween carnival."

"_Right_," the word was slowly enunciated, disbelief hugging her tone. Swallowing thickly, wide pairs of violets stared between her evil stepsisters, looking much like a baby deer caught in the headlights of a particularly unmerciful truck, "You'll forgive me if I have trouble believing that."

Uncomprehending Snow's political response, Paisley maintained the stupid grin on her face. On the other hand, Haisley glowered at the raven-haired girl, her retort cutting, "Don't be an ungrateful little shit, Cinder_slut_!"

Nodding dumbly, Paisley's grin morphed into a sinister smile, "Your costume's laid out on your bed, all pressed and wrinkle-free. And don't you worry your pretty little head over the price, Mother took care of it. Think of it as an early birthday present." Haisley, who had been nodding throughout Paisley's statement, growled at her twin's usage of 'pretty' and turned to glare at her.

Throwing them one last suspicious glance, Snow ascended the winding stairway, traversed the long halls and, trepidation exuding every fiber of her being, Snow grasped the doorknob to her room with sweaty palms and stepped inside. Crocodile tears sprang from her eyes at the sight of the dress on her bed.

It was a carbon-copy of the maid outfit Cinderella wore throughout the duration of the original 1950 cartoon, including the white apron and matching head scarf.

_So cruel! …Their evil ways knew no bounds._

Having followed her, incapable of letting the golden opportunity pass and too excited over the prospect of capturing Snow's initial reaction to their latest tormenting technique, Haisley and Paisley barged into her room, cellphones in hand and aimed at her miserable form; the former snapped around a dozen pictures of the Silverstone Heiress while the latter recorded the scene, ensuring to hone in on Snow and the maid outfit. Their loud, bellowing guffaws pervaded the air, not the least bit affected by the hurt clouding the unique pools of violet. Locking their cellphones, the twins mockingly intoned, "See you at the party, _Cinderella_!"

Not a doubt in her mind, Snow knew, _oh how she knew_, that if she didn't wear the 'costume', Lucille would not only forbid her from attending the Halloween carnival, but she'd also extract the cash from her own hard-earned wages, and would probably swindle extra out of her. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, Snow was given no alternative but to wear the humiliating dress.

Slipping on the 'costume' – _"Because let's face it,' Snow thought to herself in self-denigration. 'I am their maid.'_ – Snow avoided gauging herself in any and all mirrors or reflective surfaces available throughout the Manor as she entered the foyer, halting abruptly at the sight of the step-monster and her evil spawns. The twins shamelessly broadcasted their glee as they raked Snow's appearance from her headscarf down to her dusty-brown flats. Lucille however, portrayed more tact and grace, her countenance impassive if not for the gleam of cruel pleasure in her eyes.

For Snow's part, she took advantage of her miserable state to quash her incredulity regarding the twins' atrocious costume choice. Haisley and Paisley had dressed up as princesses, their gowns, the style of their hair, and their excessive make up that reminded Snow of clown paint, completely uncomplimentary and, in Snow's personal opinion, merely highlighted the extent of their ugliness. However, Lucille wished to locate a suitor for each of her spawns and thus, wouldn't allow them to attend the carnival in anything commoner-worthy, or considered as provocative.

"Good. I see you made the smart choice. The costume looks absolutely _darling_," Lucille purred, the corner of her lips curling in a subtle smirk. "Think of it as an early _birthday_ _gift_, a celebration to _nearly_ seventeen years of life, _hmm_?" at her words, a wicked gleam could be seen in her eyes. "The party finishes after 12. Therefore, you have two choices, you either arrive at the Manor at 12 _on the dot _to sleep in your bed, or come after and make yourself comfortable on the lawn. I'll _try_ to remember keep the sprinklers off," lie – she'd pretend to forget and everybody that currently stood in the foyer knew it.

Any response from Snow was cut off by the sound of the doorbell. Sharing startled looks, the twins excitedly sprang forward, skidding against the floor while they tugged at each other's dresses in their desperation to be the first to answer the door.

"Girls. _Girls_! Keep you dignity intact and answer the door like a lady would," Lucille clucked her tongue disapprovingly. She then sneered at Snow, "_You_, out of the way."

"Yes, mother," they answered glumly in unison.

Impatient, Lucille twisted a stand around her finger and coldly demanded, "Well, who is it?"

"It's for _her_," Paisley spat, practically green with envy.

Surprised at the unexpected instance as Snow's friends knew to never show up at her doorstep as they weren't welcome by Lucille – there was a reason why Snow never entertained guests and always hung out at her friends' respective houses – she ignored the three expressions of malicious disdain fixated on her and strode deeper into the foyer. Marveling the grand entrance, having been invited inside by the lustful twins, was Stefan. Despite her embarrassment in regards to her appearance, Snow beamed brightly at the vampire, unbothered by the fact that he had gained an invite as she trusted him wholeheartedly with her safety.

"Stefan, what is it?" Snow timidly closed the distance between them; she could sense something was troubling him greatly. Nevertheless, the smile he sent her was genuine, "I'm here to pick you up. Elena's heading to the party with Jeremy and she mentioned you wouldn't have a ride, so I volunteered."

Her complexion turned a rosy shade of red, "You didn't have to—"

"Excuse me, Mr…?" Lucille interjected brusquely, her voice excessively cloying. Turning her head a fraction to the right, Snow made a valiant effort to veil her rolling eyes, instantaneously recognizing her step-mother's bid to snag Stefan as a son-in-law. And while Snow sensed it to be fake, Stefan, ever the gentleman, responded with a disarming smile, "Salvatore."

An excess of greed suffused the air the moment the name "Salvatore" came out in the open. Lucille's eyes sparkled at the realization that the handsome man before her was part of the Founding Families. "Yes, Mr. _Salvatore_. I hope I do not come off as too forward, but a worried mother must. Would you accompany my precious daughters to the Halloween carnival?" her tone still sickeningly cloying, Lucille gestured grandly at Haisley and Paisley.

Too quick for the those in the room that were unaware of Stefan's status as a vampire, his eyes briefly collided with Snow's before he flicked past the Styne twins in disinterest and focused on Lucille. Rearranging his features into one of apology, Stefan grimaced, "Actually, Ma'am, there's something I'd like to discuss with Snow in private." His blatant rejection elicited looks of outrage, and jealous, the twins growled when Stefan winked at Snow and chivalrously held his hand out for her to take.

Giggling, Snow elegantly slid her dainty hand into his larger one. She barely managed to spare the scandalized trio a proper goodbye due to Stefan swiftly pulling her out of the Manor and past the majestic lawn. "Are you gonna vampire flash me there?" she inquired innocently, eyes wide with wonder.

He chuckled at her refreshing easygoing demeanor, "No, I thought we could walk and talk."

"About the real reason you chose to pick me up?" Snow added nonchalantly, glancing at him. She smiled at having surprised him, "You've been keeping something from me for a while now, and Elena was supposed to pick me up, regardless of whether Jeremy decided to come or not. So, one plus one equals… spill, Stefan."

Stefan's chuckles became a full belly laugh. In fact, since vampirism, he couldn't recall anyone but Lexi managing to prompt genuine laughs out of him… until Snow Silverstone. "Elena warned me nothing gets passed you," forest greens twinkled with unbridled mirth.

"Just call me, Mrs. Holmes," she giggled, skipping slightly.

His smile grew. "Okay. I was worried for you. For the past month, I've been thinking about what you said regarding your stepmother and stepsisters, and of how they'd not hesitate to invite anyone with a pretty face into your home. Some nights, when Damon'd leave, I feared he'd attempt to get an invitation, so I'd keep watch sometimes. That's how Vicki managed to get close to Tyler last night. I wasn't at the boarding house," he shook his head, and Snow clasped his hand, smiling kindly at him, her expression clearly indicating he wasn't to blame. Smiling, he squeezed her hand in gratitude. "Anyway, you were right. The twins, they uh, didn't even ask for name, just quickly invited me inside," his voice oozed with disbelief.

Snow rolled her eyes, "_Told ya_."

"Yeah, well… good news, now I've gotten an invite, if anything ever happens and you need me, there won't be a barrier preventing me from getting to you. So, if you ever need anything, you can always call me," the sincerity radiating from Stefan almost reduced Snow to tears as she profusely expressed her gratitude.

A comfortable silence ensued, blanketing them as they leisurely made their way to the high school. Pondering over a certain mystery that's been eating at her, Snow decided to take advantage of their privacy and current camaraderie, "Can you tell me why Vicki's unaffected by my presence?"

For a while, Stefan kept his silence and his gaze focused on the path ahead; and just when Snow believed her question would go on unanswered, he suddenly blurted out, "You have no scent."

She abruptly froze, prompting Stefan to stop alongside her, and for a while Snow stood immobile on the side of the road as she attempted to make sense of Stefan's baffled disclosure. Flummoxed, she blinked three times in succession. The violet-eyed girl then lifted her gaze to meet Stefan's, her raven brows crinkled in utmost confusion, "What do you mean I have _no scent_?"

Inhaling and exhaling, Stefan elucidated, "I mean, you have _absolutely no scent_. Every human has a-, has a distinctive scent, their _blood_ is distinct. This scent is what makes it hard for a vampire to control their bloodlust, especially if they're young like Vicki, who has yet to practice control like Damon and I. You, however, don't have one. I smell your perfume, your natural scent; I can hear your heartbeat, pumping blood into your veins… but going on your blood alone, nothing." Detecting Snow's apprehension, he hastened to reassure her, "But it can be considered a good thing, it means you're unappetizing to vampires, which keeps you _safe_—"

Snow cut him off, "But the bad thing is there's something wrong with me. I'm not normal, am I?"

Head shaking, Stefan grimaced, "I'm sorry. That's why I didn't want to say anything. I didn't want to worry you, not until I managed to research what you are…"

"That's why you and Damon kept staring at me oddly at the beginning," it was like everything was slowly clicking into place, the puzzle finally complete.

He didn't know if he'd ever be unsurprised by her astounding level of perception. "Exactly. We've been vampires for a hundred and forty-five years, and you're the first human we've crossed that lacks a scent. You're an enigma…a conundrum."

Grumbling, Snow rubbed the nape of her neck, "Great. That's just what I needed."

Sparing her an apologetic glance, the duo finally reached the carnival. Choosing to split up in search of Elena, and in Snow's case, Bonnie and Caroline as well, they separated and pushed through the throng of partygoers. It didn't take long before she found Bonnie and Caroline, both of whom stood congregated around Tyler and a few Timberwolves, and after one drink, Snow decided to check on Elena. Ducking past a dozen lip-locked couples with roaming hands, Snow finally bumped into a nervous Elena and Matt, who looked surprisingly laidback. Unbeknownst to Snow, Vicki escaped from Salvatore Confinement, approached her brother, and chose to attend the Halloween carnival with Jeremy – in other terms, the calm before _all Hell lets loose_.

"We have to find Jeremy," was Elena's way of saying 'Hello'. Grabbing Snow's hand, she dragged her alongside her and down the hallways, all the while avoiding contact with the myriad of drunk teenagers. Raking their surroundings, their footsteps halted at the sight of Stefan and Vicki in an empty classroom, the latter glaring at the former as he attempted to make her see sense. Confused, just as Elena let out a breath of relief, Snow asked, "Why'd you let Vicki come here?"

"And hello to you to, Snow," Vicki retorted sarcastically.

Realizing something had happened, Stefan's brows furrowed, "What's the matter?"

"I lost track of Jeremy. I was worried," Elena revealed shakily.

Stepping into the room, Matt had apparently chosen to follow them, prompted by his concern over Elena. "What's goin' on?" he demanded, angry at Stefan's close proximity to his sister, especially after he had gotten rid of him earlier when he stopped by their house and ordered he leave them alone.

Trying to diffuse the surging dissent, Stefan maintained a calm tone, hands up, palms facing the angry blonde, "Hey, uh. Everything's fine."

Sly and cunning, a quintessential Slytherin in Snow's opinion, Vicki cried out, "Matt, he won't leave me alone."

Shocked to the core at the tactic Vicki chose to employ, Snow implored, "Vicki! Don't do this." Unfortunately, Vicki's manipulation tactic worked; as Matt went protective brother on Stefan, a disagreement escalated between the quarterback and vampire, and in the chaos she had astutely generated, Vicki vanished, leaving Elena and Snow to resume their frantic pursuit of Jeremy before the newly-turned vampire unwittingly sunk her fangs into him.

After having searched through the crowd and achieving no luck, they decided to check the deserted sections of Mystic Falls High, like the stoner pit, or—

About to pass the back entrance, Jeremy's familiar yell of alarm permeated the air. Without a second thought, the two girls barged in, stopping short at the scene before them. Vicki was brutally feeding from a cut on Jeremy's lips, her hands aggressively pinning him to the wall. Taking note of a wooden plank, Elena didn't think twice before grabbing it and running over to Vicki, her weapon of choice raised overhead. Emitting a grunt, Elena brought the plank down on Vicki's back, pushing her away from Jeremy.

Snow was hit with an infusion of courage. Jumping forward, she yanked Jeremy forward to the exit, finding the strength to push his unresponsive form through, when all of a sudden a piercing scream came from behind. Turning, violet orbs grew wide – in retaliation, Vicki had vamped out and grabbed Elena, throwing her backward into the nearby pile of garbage. Pulling Jeremy alongside her, Snow helped Elena to her feet, sagging with relief at Stefan's welcoming arrival.

Pinning a rabid Vicki to a bus, Stefan yelled, "Go. Get inside. Go!" The words only just escaped him when Vicki untangled herself and vanished.

Elena pushed Jeremy and Snow in front of her and toward the exit. As they were running out, Elena let out another scream. Vicki had grabbed ahold of the brunette, her fangs sinking into her neck.

"Vicki, _no_!" Snow cried, desperate for her friend to snap out of her bloodlust, but it was too late. Left with utterly no choice, Stefan pulled her off Elena and plunged a crudely fashioned wooden stake into her undead heart. "_NOOO_!" she yelled, eyes beginning to well up with tears.

Snow felt indescribable pain erupt from her heart, the location eerily where Vicki had been stabbed moments ago. Feeling faint, she collapsed into herself on the dirty, grimy floor, as _slowly_ the pain started to abate. Vision blurred with tears, Snow clutched both hands to her chest as she greedily inhaled and exhaled the oxygen into and out of her lungs, the phantom, unbearable pain leaving an imprint on her mind. Distracted from the crippling affliction, Snow lunged forward to wrap Vicki's mummified form in her arms, hugging the lifeless body of her quasi-sister to her chest, the sobs she incessantly emitted turning into loud hiccups.

Time passed… and she was completely lost to her surroundings. Snow didn't know how long she sat on the grubby ground, her face pressed against Vicki's lifeless body as she cried all over her. She remained oblivious over the fact that Elena stuck by her side the entire time, sad eyes fixated on her crying friend and the body of a girl she had grown up with and knew all her life. Snow continued to cry, even when Damon approached them and uttered a flippant comment, "You two should go, I got this." Speaking about Vicki as though she were nothing but a sack of potatoes, and not _somebody_, a big sister, a friend, a daughter, a loved one…

Snow wanted to scream and rage and punch Damon Salvatore on every sliver of skin available to her – Damon Salvatore was the sole reason behind Vicki's death. Stefan may have committed the permanent killing blow, but his actions were borne out of protection, and not boredom. But it wasn't _Snow_…it wasn't _her_. She couldn't do that. Snow Silverstone was utterly incapable of harming anyone.

A complete contrast to Snow's innate disposition, Elena didn't have the same restraint. Angrily shooting to her feet, she took a step toward the volatile vampire and spat out, all the while gesturing wildly between Snow and Vicki's dead body, "You did this. This is _your_ fault!"

"You confuse me for someone with remorse," Damon scoffed, although his eyes unwillingly softened when they paused on Snow's crying form and the vice grip she had on Vicki. Boldly, blinded by the rage consuming her, Elena lifted her hand, fully prepared to smack Damon in the face, but he was too fast for her and his hand flashed out and roughly grabbed it, stopping it before it could make its impact, "None of this matter to me. _None of it_."

Struggling to release her hand from his grip, Elena sneered, "People die around you. How could it be not matter? It matters, and you know it. Snow just lost someone she loved dearly, and she doesn't have much people in her life that cares for her. _You did this_!" And with that, she took advantage of her free hand and slapped him across the face.

Daggers in his eyes, Damon growled, "_You need to leave_. Your wounds are bleeding and _you need to leave_."

With one last glare, Elena turned to Snow's collapsed form and coaxed her into releasing Vicki's body, "Snow, you have to let her go. Come on, sweetie. Sleepover at mine tonight, okay. Come on."

Damon watched as Snow broke into desperate wails in Elena's arms, desperately attempting to reach out for Vicki. But Elena's hold was firm and Snow's struggles fruitless as she steered her away from the gruesome scene. Once she had a hysterical Snow in the passenger seat, Elena let a few tears slip as she cautiously drove home. No sooner had she reached did she storm over to Stefan, who stood by the front porch, Snow still cradled in her arms, "Where is he?"

"Inside," Stefan stated, eyes wide on the bawling Snow and full of sorrow. His expression contorted in agony, he flashed over and carried her in his arms, sitting her down on the porch-swing as Elena went to check on Jeremy. Blubbering, Snow lifted her red-rimmed eyes to Stefan's sorrowful gaze, "She's gone Stefan. Why do I keep losing people I care about?"

"I'm sorry, Snow. I didn't want this to happen. But you have Elena and Caroline and Bonnie. You have me. I'm not going anywhere," hesitantly, Stefan put an arm around her, and when Snow didn't flinch away from him, gathered her in a tight hug, allowing her to cry into his chest.

A few minutes later, Elena joined them outside and looked sadly at Snow. Her eyes then flickered over to Stefan, "Are you okay?"

"I, uh… I wanted to help her. But instead, uh… How's he doin'?" Stefan changed the subject, not wanting to think about Vicki and not wanting to upset the mourning girl in his arms.

The brunette sat on Snow's other side and rubbed soothing circles on her back, "He's a mess. I don't want him going through this again. He's just a kid."

Solemn, Stefan asked, "Elena, what can I do? I-, what can I do to help? I'll do anything."

"Can you make him forget?" was Elena's prompt retort.

Peeking at her friend from between Stefan's arms, Snow shook her head in obvious disagreement, "Elena, no…"

"Snow, it's the only choice. I don't know how he'll ever get past this. I just want him to forget everything that happened," Elena looked desperate. Grim, Stefan let out a sigh, "If I did it, there's no guarantee that it would work, because of who I am. Because of how I live. I don't have the ability to do it right."

"I can do it. If this is what you want, I'll do it," a voice intruded. Snow, Elena and Stefan turned, watching as Damon approached them.

Confident in her decision, Elena dipped her head, tone passive-aggressive, "It's what I want."

"What do you want him to know?" Damon appeared to be sincere, all levity and his repertoire of flippant remarks absent for the time being.

"Elena-"

Elena cut the raven-haired girl off. A part of her knew that, if she let Snow talk, she'd successfully prevent her from compelling Jeremy to forget by speaking sense. So she ignored her friend and focused on Damon, "I want you to tell him that Vicki left town and she's not coming back. That he shouldn't look for her or worry about her. He's gonna miss her, but he knows it's for the best."

Once Damon disappeared behind the threshold to compel Jeremy, Snow fixated her friend with her piercing gaze and softly imparted, "You're going to regret doing this one day, Lena. For a while, it'll seem like the right course, and maybe Jeremy will improve. But as time goes on, and he feels a part of him is missing _something_, it's going to come and bite you in the ass." Patting her twice on the thigh, Snow didn't wait for Elena's response, instead choosing to leave her with Stefan and make her way to Elena's room.

Sitting on the bed, Snow huddled into herself and cradled her legs to her chest, burying her face in her knees and crying softly into them. Which was the scene Damon walked in on. He stared at her sadly, a pang of regret coursing through him. "Do you want me to make you forget?" he sincerely put out the option. Snow however, adamantly shook her head, "I can't. I need to… No, I don't want to forget Vicki's last moments. If I do, I'll feel a sort of emptiness inside me, and I'll always wonder where she went and why she didn't tell me goodbye."

Damon nodded, his mouth parted, ready to say something… _anything_ that would get her to stop crying, but no words came to him. Instead, he turned around and left the raven-haired girl alone with her thoughts and her tears.

* * *

_**CAST:**_

**Kayla Ewell **_**as**_** Vicki Donovan**

* * *

"_**It's time to celebrate the greatest holiday of all time: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CAROLINE FORBES!**_**" **_**– **__**Snow Silverstone**_

"_**I don't know why you always act so surprised, Care. You've claimed your birthday as everyone's favorite day of the year.**_**" **_**– **__**Bonnie Bennett**_

"_**I hate lying to them, too, Snow. But it's not our secret to tell, and… we made a promise. Besides the more people in the know, the more dangerous it gets.**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert**_

_**Damon Salvatore:**_ **"_Snow Silverstone's got to go. I need to get rid of her._"** _**Stefan Salvatore:** _**"**_**Why? 'Cause she brings out your humanity.**_**"**

"_**Maybe you should get off your high horse, stop butting into my love life with Vicki, and look after your own. And while you're at it, stop telling me how I should be feeling, Elena!**_**" **_**– **__**Jeremy Gilbert**_

"_**You on drugs!? Everyone thinks you're off on a bender.**_**" **_**– **__**Tyler Lockwood**_

"'_**Dude'? Really? 'Dude'?**_**" **_**– **__**Damon Salvatore**_

"_**Being a vampire sucks, I already can't take the constant hunger. And you want to shove the remains of Thumper at me, really, Stefan?!**_**" **_**– **__**Vicki Donovan**_

"_**I'm just a kooky lady that teaches occult at the university. No one really believes. They just poke fun. And let 'em. Don't let 'em know the truth.**_**" **_**– **__**Sheila Bennett**_

"_**Just when I think that weasel's grown up and accepted responsibility, he disappears off the face of the grid. Again.**_**" **_**– **__**Richard Lockwood**_

_**Snow Silverstone:**_ **"**_**Elena, you totally danced with danger.**_**" **_**Elena Gilbert:**_** "**_**When you say 'danger', do you mean it as a metaphorical concept, or are you alluding to Damon?**_**"**

"_**Come on. Can someone please be excited that it's Halloween? I just wanna have fun, you know, just some silly, fluffy, Damon free fun.**_**" **_**– **__**Caroline Forbes**_

"_**Don't be bitter. It provokes wrinkles.**_**" **_**– **__**Bonnie Bennett**_

"_**Look, for months after mom and dad died, I felt like crap, like "nothing really even mattered" crap. Now all of a sudden, I get these moments and things started to feel just a little bit better, and Vicki was in every single one of 'em. So you may not see it, but trust me. Keeping me away from her is not for the best.**_**" **_**– **__**Jeremy Gilbert**_

"_**Oh my God! Did you see Tweedledum and Tweedledee? They're here as princesses, like anyone would fall for that. Blind bitches look like Pennywise remade.**_**" **_**– **__**Caroline Forbes**_

"_**That bitch!**_**" **_**– **__**Bonnie Bennett (about Lucille upon seeing Snow's costume)**_

"_**Yeah, you can't miss her. She's a vampire.**_**" **_**– **__**Matt Donovan (about Vicki)**_

"_**Oh, we had the founder's party, and anyone who arrived during the day was eliminated as a suspect.**_**" **_**– **__**Carol Lockwood**_

"_**Come with me. If you come with me, we can be together forever.**_**" **_**– **__**Vicki Donovan**_

"_**That piece of junk belonged to one of the most powerful witches of our family. Let me show you. There she is. Emily Bennett. Your great-great-great-great-grandmother. And there's your necklace.**_**" **_**– **__**Sheila Bennett**_

"_**You're a good brother, Matt.**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert**_

"_**Until we meet again…Rest in peace, Vicki Donovan.**_**" **_**– **__**Snow Silverstone**_

* * *

**A/N:**** So we're finally finding out more about Snow in this chapter. Hope you enjoyed reading it. Also, since there's a month between episodes, I put some quotes of what happened in between, such as Caroline's birthday… think of it as deleted scenes.**

**Next Chapter, ANOTHER revelation! XD**

**R&R.**


	9. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:**** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters, ideas and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

_**CHAPTER 8:**_

**FOUND AND LOST**

* * *

**Truth (**_**noun**_**): that which is true or in accordance with fact or reality; a fact or belief that is accepted as true**

"_**Some people who've experienced immense loss develop a defense to more loss. It's an instinct to push people away before they leave us.**_**"**

"_**Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth.**_**"**

"_**Everyone parts with everything eventually, my dear.**_**"**

"_**I'll take the pain, give me the truth, me and my heart, we'll make it through.**_**"**

* * *

"_Lenaaa_! I'm horrible at lying, and you _know_ it!" Snow, feeling quite petulant, hissed as she dragged her feet. She and Elena stood right outside Mystic Falls Police Station, the former's anxiety threatening to make a hasty comeback at the mere thought of performing the task that lay ahead.

That morning, Snow, bone-tired and depressed, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy from the amount of tears she discharged the other night and lack of proper sleep, was awoken by a similarly bleary-eyed Elena, mumbling incoherently about something in relation to Sheriff Forbes, Vicki, and the Station. Simultaneously falling back to sleep, Snow's cellphone was the next to ring, and ring and ring… and went straight to voicemail. In fact, it wasn't until Jenna stepping into the room and forcing the curtains open, explaining Sheriff Forbes called demanding their appearance along with Jeremy's at the Station for questioning regarding Vicki's spontaneous disappearance, _for the second time_, did Elena and Snow promptly get out of bed, the reminder of the Halloween carnival and its horrific cessation jolting them awake like an ice-cold shower.

The events of the other night slammed into Snow like a freight train, the thought of no longer seeing Vicki Donovan, or hearing her quasi-sister's voice, or being hugged by her, of no longer spending time with her during work hours at the Grill… the stark reality had Snow huddling into herself in the bathroom corner, consumed by an anxiety attack. Elena, thankfully, having had experience with Snow's anxiety, sat right there with her, kneeling on the bathroom floor, gripping her hands tightly as she acted as her stabilizer. "Breathe with me, Snow… in, hold it in, count to four… and _out_. _Iiinnn_… hold it, feel it in your chest, down to your belly, count to four, and _out_. That's it," the brunette cooed, keeping the smile on her face. "That's it, sweetie. Good, _great_…and _out_."

Immediately afterward, a sympathetic Jenna joined them, chamomile tea in hand.

Mechanically, the best friends got dressed, quickly gulped back their respective morning drink – coffee, _black_, for Elena, and two cups of chamomile tea for Snow – and climbed into the car with Jenna and Jeremy, his silence and lack of emotion regarding the entire situation creeping Snow out, shivering internally at the aftereffects of compulsion; looking away, her lips compressed in a thin line, pitying Jeremy for having his free will and his memories taken away against his wishes. To Snow, an individual's memory and their free will was _extremely_ important. However, to play devil's advocate, she understood Elena's reasons and couldn't _completely_ fault her for the actions she took to maintain Jeremy's emotional stability.

Which led to where they currently stood, Snow staring at the foundation in front of her will ill-veiled horror. She had always been a terrible liar; in fact, she was known by most denizens of Mystic Falls for her inability to string together a _mediocre_ lie – a white lie alone was a miracle in Snow's books – let alone a fabricated, exaggerated, _bold-faced_ lie. And to top it off, Snow possessed an expressive face, her eyes the first to give _everything_ away and her thoughts displayed for everyone to see.

Snow Silverstone was an honest person by nature, _full stop_.

Arms linked in what can be considered a death grip, the pair of best friends stepped into the Station, heads dipping politely in acknowledgement at a few officers that caught their eye, some of which knew them throughout their childhood, especially since they were part of the Founding Families _and_ best friends with the Sheriff's daughter.

"Yeah. _I know_," Elena huffed, warily scrutinizing their surroundings for a sign of any eavesdroppers before meeting the pair of terrified violet orbs that had yet to lose their redness from all the crying done the night before, and a bit in the morning. Suffice to say, Snow was postponing the waterworks to _after _their appointment with Sheriff Forbes. "I've been thinking about it, and I think I found a loophole. Don't lie _per say_. Just… cover the truth with a lie. Like, uh, be vague, disguise your words. You're a wordsmith, Snow. Your words have power; you can easily turn a lie into the truth. You can do it, I have faith in you."

"Snow Silverstone," the Deputy called out.

Startled, Snow almost crushed Elena's hand. Wincing, the brunette slowly disentangled her fingers from the raven-haired girl's _surprisingly_ firm grip, "Breathe in, and out. You've got this, Snow." Pulling her into a brief, reassuring embrace, Elena lightly shoved her toward the Deputy. From over her shoulder, frightened eyes collided with swirls of chocolate, prompting the brunette to flash her pearly whites and lift both thumbs up. The instant Snow disappeared into Sheriff Forbes' office, Elena lifted a hand to her forehead and grimaced, "_Oy-yoy-yoy_…"

Stepping in, Snow was greeted with a tight smile from Sheriff Forbes, "Snow, hi." Responding with a tentative smile, Snow hesitantly deposited herself in the chair situated before the desk. Leaning forward, hands clasped together, her demeanor professional, the Sheriff prefaced, "Okay, I'm going to ask a couple of questions. All standard procedure, I assure you. I know you were close with Vicki and it's hard, but I want you to answer to the best of your ability, alright?"

Disregarding the mini freak-out currently occurring inside her head, Snow thickly swallowed and nodded, sitting on her hands in an attempt to conceal _and_ prevent her shaking hands.

The Sheriff kicked it off with, "When was the last time you saw Vicki?"

A breath slipped past her; the first question was an easy one. _Technically_, the last time she saw Vicki – _tears, tears go away!_ – was after Stefan plunged a wooden stake in her heart. She had cradled her mummified form and after that, Damon _apparently _dealt with her body; probably ditching her in some unmarked grave – '_Annnnd swallow back those tears. Snow Silverstone, under no circumstance are you gonna mess this up! Pull yourself together_,' she mentally chastised herself, pinching her inner thigh in the process.

"I last saw her at the Halloween carnival," Snow admitted in a soft voice, which was technically true.

Having expected her response, Sheriff Forbes nodded, "Did she tell you or perhaps her brother where she was going?"

Damn, damn, damn… wait, what did Elena say? Cover the lie with a truth or disguise it. Okay, she can do this. Vicki hadn't told her she was going to the Halloween party; in fact, Snow knew nothing about Vicki's escape from Casa el Salvatore until _after _she _reached_ the party. So the _honest_ answer would be…_no. No_, Vicki didn't tell her she was going anywhere. Shaking her head, Snow said, "No, Sheriff Forbes. I briefly saw her at the party, and it was so crowded, we barely spoke."

That part was true – no form of conversation occurred between them, unless Snow's one-sided one where she kept yelling at Vicki to stop sucking Elena and Jeremy's blood was considered a conversation.

"Is there anyone I can talk to that may know what happened to her prior her leaving town?"

Only Damon knew of Vicki's location. "No. I mean, Jeremy or Matt would probably know," Snow shrugged.

"I heard from Matt that Stefan Salvatore was around Vicki a lot before she disappeared. Do you have any idea why?" was the next inquiry.

Okay, this was an easy question. Ignoring the whole vampire thing, _theoretically_, Stefan had been trying to help her… part of the reason was because Vicki was involved with Jeremy and Elena was scared, so Stefan involved himself.

…It was only a tiny fib, barely considered a lie.

"Vicki and Jeremy are really close and Elena was worried about her brother. So since Stefan experienced something similar, Elena asked him to step in and help," while Snow delivered her words, she nodded along. Stefan _did_ experience her situation before… he went through the whole transitioning into a vampire phase, as well as controlling the irrational need for human blood.

"Can you tell me what her behavior like those last few days before she left?"

Finally a question that can be answered with complete honesty… editing the vampire part, of course. Clearing her throat, Snow collected her thoughts, "She was very sketchy. Her behavior erratic and moody, like she was coming down from some major partying."

"Any signs of aggression or violence?"

Damn! Yes! Yes, a hundred times yes. Major signs of aggression and violence; she threatened Elena and almost strangled her at the Boarding house. Then, she attempted to suck Jeremy dry at the party, and subsequently threw Elena around like a rag doll before sinking her fangs into her neck. But how could she spin the truth? …When Vicki saw _her_, her face brightened up immensely and she was very hyper and kind, and showered her with hugs, so… no. Vicki hadn't shown aggressiveness or violence toward _her_.

"No," came Snow's laconic response as she dug her fingernails into her inner thigh.

A blonde eyebrow rose. "So you believe Vicki really has left town?"

She died, so yeah, not in Mystic Falls anymore.

"Yes," Snow nodded, confident.

Interrogation completed and given permission to leave, Snow, her vision clouded with the beginning formation of tears, ran outside, her surroundings completely disregarded, and the cacophony of voices reduced to white noise. Leaning against a random car that sat stationary in front of the Station, Snow frantically gulped in lungfuls of cool fresh air of November. Tears cascaded down her face as she struggled to breathe.

It hadn't even been a day yet; however, knowing that this time she was _gone_ for good, Snow missed Vicki _terribly_.

All throughout the interrogation, Snow focused obsessively on rearranging the lies into truths, thinking of nothing but Stefan's safety and keeping his status a secret. Now though, Vicki featured her every thought. Vicki Donovan – her friend, her quasi-sister, a girl who _cared_ about Snow. She was never going to see her again… the investigation would go south because Vicki Donovan wasn't a missing person, she wasn't a runaway… She was dead.

Familiar arms engulfed her bent form, prompting Snow to sink into her friend's embrace, struggling and failing to keep the tears at bay. Elena didn't bother asking if she were okay; that much was obvious. Now that the interrogation was done and reality had settled in, Snow was grieving. Turning around to properly embrace the brunette, Snow smiled softly at a concerned Stefan, who had followed Elena out, worried for Snow.

"Thank you," Stefan spoke up sincerely, cutting into the silence that shrouded the hugging girls. "Elena told me how hard it is for you to be dishonest, so thank you, for doing this. And again, I'm sorry about Vicki. I really did try to help her."

Extricating herself from Elena, Snow reached out softly patted him on the shoulder, "You're my friend, Stefan. Of course I'd protect you."

Stefan's responding smile fell at Elena's next words, "I can't do this Stefan. Every time I look at Matt or Jeremy, all I think is that Vicki is never gonna come back. Around you people get hurt and people die. I can't just-, it's too much…" She broke off as her words evoked Snow's sobbing.

Furrows crowded the vampire's forehead, highlighting his pain, "Why don't we go somewhere and talk about it?"

Her head turned back and forth in rejection, "No, Stefan you have to stay away from me." She gently led Snow away from Stefan, "Come on, Snow. Let's go back to my place." And allowing herself to be dragged to the car, Jenna and Jeremy sitting inside and waiting for them, Snow shot the miserable vampire an apologetic look and a brisk wave, her hand forming a half-arch.

* * *

Leaning against the door, Snow, her motion deliberate, closed it with her back as she leveled Elena with a disappointed stare, violet eyes possessing an almost penetrating quality. Releasing a long-drawn-out sigh, the raven-haired girl joined the brunette on the bed, the corners of her mouth turned down. Elena slammed her lids shut and let out a semi-irritated breath, sensing Snow's incoming lecture in _five… four… three… two… one—_ "You know, Elena. What you said to Stefan, it wasn't fair. The people who got hurt and died were because of _Damon_. Stefan isn't his brother; he had nothing to do with it. None of this is his fault and the fact that you're holding him responsible for his brother's actions is unfair and quite harsh of you. He came to Mystic Falls to experience _some semblance_ of a normal life. And Stefan can't be blamed for Damon's presence here, either." And concluding her impressive speech, Snow allowed her head to fall back onto one of the many plushy pillows decorating Elena's bed, blowing away the errant strand that landed on her face.

Huffing, Elena imitated Snow, two heads, one pillow. "I know, Snow. _God_, _I know_," she produced a noise that sounded a mixture of a groan and a scream, the upper half of her body lifting from her resting position before slamming back down on the bed. "It's just, I _need._ _time_! I need _space_, so I can think about…_all this_."

"You up?"

The familiar voice's sudden suffusion into Elena's bedroom that's ambience was the epitome of doom and gloom evoked joyous exclamations from the two girls as their gazes collided with a pair of hazel-greens by the door, their best friend more than happy to reciprocate with a bright grin of her own.

"_Bonnie_!" Squealing, her grievous state lightening at the sight of Bonnie, who likewise, had been avoiding the two girls for reasons hitherto unknown, Snow lunged at her, arms practically strangling the caramel-skinned girl in an embrace. Head thrown back, Bonnie emitted a bubble of unrestrained laughter before joining them on the bed, "Why haven't you any of you called me back?"

Eyes averted, Elena apologized, Snow automatically echoing the sentiment.

Eyebrows furrowed, Bonnie studied her friends in slight concern at their odd behavior, "What's wrong with you two? And don't say nothing. I know you, something's definitely up."

"I'm tired of thinking… of talking I-"

Hazel-greens narrowed in _official_ concern, Bonnie cut through Elena's incomprehensible babbling, "Can I get a one-line version so I can at least _pretend_ to be helpful?"

"I've been depressed about Vicki," Snow revealed softly, making a huge effort to be as honest as possible without accidentally blurting out the existence of vampires. Lying to Sheriff Forbes about Vicki's fate was nothing compared to her difficulty with keeping secrets from Bonnie and Caroline. Her entire life, Snow _never_ kept _anything_ from her three sisters.

Bobbing her head, Elena solemnly added, "Stefan and I broke up."

Gasped at the two, Bonnie did a sad shake of her head, "I'm so sorry. Are you two okay? Right, stupid question." Sighing, she fixated her wide apologetic eyes on them, her bottom lip extended in a pout, "I know I've been kind of MIA when you two needed me the most. I suck."

Snow immediately brushed the apology off; she had _nothing_ to be sorry for. _They did_! "Don't say that. I'm certain you had a good reason, Bon," she patted her hand in a kind gesture.

"Shush, Snow. Let her make it up to us and get our minds off of everything," Elena giggled good-naturedly.

A mischievous smirk colored Bonnie's lips, "Just remember you asked for it." Closing the window, she reached over and grabbed a pillow from Elena's _large pile_, and without warning, ripped it open with her bare hands, emptying it of all its feathers.

"_Hey_!" Elena yelled in mock outrage, profoundly surprised by the non sequitur.

Snow, too, displaying confusion, asked, "Um, Bon, whatcha doing?"

"Be patient," Bonnie scolded her friends, her tone lacking any bite. She then stared at them, completely solemn, her eyes reflecting the gravity of her next words, "I need to swear the both of you to secrecy."

Elena pouted, "It's kind of a bad week for that kind of stuff."

Forearm extended and hand colliding against Elena's arm in a playful smack, Snow smiled at the caramel-skinned girl, "I promise."

Reciprocating her smile, Bonnie's stern gaze settled on Elena, "Swear, Elena, 'cause I'm not supposed to be showing you guys this."

"I was just kidding. I _swear_," Elena grinned, chocolate orbs twinkling as she ducked another playful blow from Snow, immensely proud of herself for distracting the kind-hearted girl and making her laugh.

Vibrating with excitement, Bonnie did a little jump, bouncing on the bed, "There's no windows open, right?"

Her good mood truly was infectious as Snow found herself beaming from ear to ear, "Well, there _was_, but you just closed it."

Rolling her eyes half-heartedly in amusement, Bonnie proceeded, "There's no fan. No air conditioning." Elena and Snow shared a look, feeling as though there should be a drum rolling somewhere in the background.

"None. What are you doing?" Elena's confusion surged, a drop of amusement in her orbs.

Her derriere wiggling on the bed, Bonnie made herself comfortable, eyes flickering from girl to girl, "Grams just showed me this. You're gonna love it. You ready?" She couldn't wait to share her secret with them, and to see their initial reactions, _and_ to be able to confide in her best friends again. Although she hated that she had to keep it from Caroline; while she loved the blonde _to death_, and would die for her _without blinking_, Caroline Forbes had a habit of being close-minded in regards to anything… not considered as normal. But according to Grams, Snow would accept her secret wholeheartedly.

"Bonnie, what's going o— _Ouch_! _Snow_!" Elena scowled at the aforementioned girl while she rubbed her poor, abused arm. Unrepentant, Snow scolded her, "We'll never know if you keep interrupting."

Lifting her hands, Bonnie moved them in a slow swaying motion from right to left and back again, the entrancing movement an emulation of a dancing wave, and suddenly a feather levitated. Eyes wide, Snow swiped a hand out underneath the levitated feather in a slashing motion, searching for any transparent strings. When she didn't find any, a bubble of childlike laughter sprang from her plump lips and she clapped her hands together in exuberance. Spurred by Snow's reaction and the wonder in Elena's eyes, Bonnie's hand rose a level higher and several more feathers levitated, dancing in circles around the three girls.

"It's _beautiful_!" Snow gasped, nearly rendered speechless.

A wide dazzling smile on her face, Bonnie cried out, "It's true, Snow, Elena. Everything my Grams told me. It's impossible and it's true. I'm a witch."

Elena let out a laugh, "I believe you."

"We both do," Snow beamed, wonderment vivid on her features.

"It's weird huh? After all this time joking about being psychic, I really am a witch…" Quite unexpectedly, Bonnie looked uncertain, shrinking into herself, "You don't think I'm a freak now, do you?"

Not having to think about it, Snow scoffed, head rapidly shifting in negative, "_Of course not_! You're special. You have a gift, Bonnie, one that I'm sure you're meant to do wonderful things with."

Bonnie smiled at Snow, extremely touched by her words and the sincerity with which she said them. "You always know what to say. I love you, Snow," she gently squeezed her hand, crinkled eyes brimming with a veneer of happy tears. Breaking the touching spell between them, Elena hesitantly inquired, "Bonnie, your Grams asked you to keep all this a secret, why did you tell us?" Since Snow was keeping secrets alongside the brunette, she didn't miss the sliver of guilt laced in her words.

"You're my best friends. I can't keep secrets from you guys," Bonnie stated as though it were common sense, and when she looked away, Snow and Elena traded identical expressions of guilt, their stomachs dropping at the horrible predicament they had gotten themselves into.

_Oh, if only they stayed ignorant and minded their own businesses…_

* * *

Announcing her imminent departure, Snow took advantage of not having to trek the thirty minute walk to her house and had Bonnie drop her off on her way. While Snow loved spending every moment of her day around her friends and if given the opportunity, would totally move in with all three of them, bouncing from home to home – she practically lived at Elena's having been inducted an honorary Gilbert due to the deceased Miranda Sommers-Gilbert's status as her godmother. However, on this particular day, the soft-spoken girl needed some alone time in order to mourn Vicki Donovan. Therefore, she parted from a somber Elena – who quite vocally begged her to stay – and gladly accepted Bonnie's offer to drop her off. Thankfully, Lucille wasn't at the Manor upon her arrival and the evil stepsisters were apparently out shopping for a last-minute party Caroline was throwing at the Grill, which gave Snow the solitude she needed to grieve.

Snow spent the afternoon painting her nails a brooding purple while she listened to depressing songs on YouTube. Once done, she sank into her bed, not bothering to pull up the thin sheet that according to Lucille, passed as a blanket, and sang along each and every sad song that played on shuffle, her eyes locked on the ceiling as the room slowly darkened, signaling the sun's descent and the moon's rise. However, her melancholy was interrupted by the doorbell and her unexpected visitor. Surprise colored her features when, for the second night in a row, Stefan stood before her threshold, a small smile on his face.

Vehemently taken aback, Snow's lips spread into a passable smile, "Stefan, this is a nice surprise. Come in, come in. What's up?"

Letting out a chuckle, Stefan sheepishly rubbed the nape of his neck, his awkwardness endearing her to him and prompting her smile to become genuine, "I know this is very unlike me, and the timing is _completely _inappropriate, but I came to ask if you wanted to go to the party at the Grill."

"You're right on both counts. Why the sudden change?" Snow tilted her head, confused.

"My best friend's in town and she wants to meet you and Elena. Plus… it's my birthday, and Lexi is forcing me to go," a smile graced his handsome features when he spoke of Lexi, his tone one of fond exasperation.

Any and all thoughts of turning him down dissipated. She had all the time in the world to mourn Vicki, but Stefan only turned… one hundred _and something_ once. "Okay, first of all, _happy birthday_! I cannot believe you saw me this morning and didn't bother telling me. Shame on you, Mr. Salvatore!" she playfully rebuked him, prompting his smile to widen. "Second of all, yes, I'd love to celebrate with you and meet Lexi!" She then frowned and looked down at her bare feet, sweatpants and baggy shirt. Her cheeks flushed and she flashed him a sheepish smile, "Uh, let me just change. Make yourself comfortable, I'll just be a quick mo."

Laughing, Stefan promptly accepted her invitation.

Entering the Grill, Stefan gently clutched her elbow and led her through the frenzied throng toward a beautiful willowy blonde by the pool table. On the way over, Stefan provided her a brief summary about Lexi and their close friendship; Lexi Branson was a three-hundred-and-fifty-year-old vampire who happened to be his best and _oldest_ friend, and didn't like feeding from humans, preferring blood bags instead, which is why she acted as a great counselor whenever he "_fell off the wagon_" – Lexi's words, not Stefan. All in all, she sounded like a wonderful person…_vampire?_, and Snow was both, excited and nervous to meet her, and not just because Stefan made her seem _awesome_, but because she'd _officially_ be the _oldest_ individual she met in her life, which was downright intimidating.

Her concerns were put to rest at the wide smile on Lexi's face reflecting unbridled joy at the sight of Stefan. Her hazel-green orbs then widened when they connected with Snow, focusing intently on her eyes, "Oh my _God_! I had a feeling when Stefan mentioned his friend was a Silverstone." Snow found herself on the receiving end of a bright, extremely fond smile, "It's you… you're Selene's daughter."

It wasn't a question.

Bewildered, Stefan threw his best friend a look that screamed '_why hadn't you mentioned something before!?'_ On the other hand, Snow reared back slightly, not used to hearing her mother's name being casually dropped in conversation. Even the adults in Mystic Falls avoided bringing her up. "Um, yeah. You, you knew my mother?" desperation laced her words, her eagerness for information regarding her deceased mother palpable. When he was alive, her Dad never spoke about her, prompting the hole inside Snow's chest that yearned to know about the woman who gave birth to her, grow. Selene Silverstone became a taboo subject in Mystic Falls and eventually, Snow learned to stop inquiring about her.

"I did. I saved her life once from a nest of rogue vampires when she was eighteen. And ever since, we kept in touch… Up until fourteen years ago, when she passed away. I would recognize you anywhere, you have her eyes and her bearing," Lexi elucidated, her mouth stretching into a sad smile.

The raven-haired girl cocked her head in confusion, "Wait, how'd you know, we just met."

"Stefan told me all about you. Selene was the same. Her heart was so big, and pure, and she was such a kind and caring soul. Her heart was big enough for everyone, and if I'm right, you share the same Achilles heel," Lexi's tone morphed from matter of fact to conspiratorial, her smile never wavering. "The ease and willingness to forgive," the blonde vampire stated after a suspenseful silence. Stefan chuckled at the veracity of Lexi's deduction and Snow sheepishly studied her feet, her cheeks flushed.

Thrilled at the closely-guarded insight, and ecstatic she shared attributes she believed to have been major flaws in her character, with her mother, Snow whispered, her voice heartfelt and genuine, "Thank you. I, I don't hear much about my mother, I was three when she died and no one likes talking about her."

Eyes bright, Lexi clapped her hands together, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, "Well, Snow Silverstone, I can tell we're going to get along amazingly, and I have a lot of stories about Selene that I've been _dying_ to share." A hunger slammed into deep pools of violets, desperate and aching to build a connection with her mother, even if it was through Lexi's tales. Stefan mentally patted his shoulders; he had a feeling introducing the two would be good for Snow. He detected the sadness that clung to her since Vicki's transition and consequent death was starting to dissipate. "Now, I'm gonna go to the bar and get us drinks. It's Stefan's B-day today, and we're getting him drunk," Lexi whispered conspiratorially into her ear, prompting a bell-like giggle.

His eyes rolled half-heartedly, "I can hear you, you know."

"I know," Lexi shrugged before bouncing off to the bar. She was still in hearing range – _vampire ears_ – when Snow stated, "I like her." And when the hyperactive vampire returned, she decided to leave them for a while, having spotted Elena amidst the crowd, arms crossed and elbows propped on a table as she leaned into them looking immensely overwhelmed. Despondent chocolate orbs brightened when Snow appeared in front of her, "Hey! Stefan mentioned you'd be here. Are you enjoying yourself, Snow?"

Bobbing enthusiastically, Snow, too excited for small talk, blurted out, "Guess what, Lexi knew my mother. _She_ _knew her_!" Mouth agape, Elena – intimately aware in regards to Snow's desperation to gain knowledge about the mysterious Selene Silverstone – grabbed her hand in hers and pulled her closer, silently gesturing for her to elucidate. "Apparently, she saved my Mom from a couple of vampires and they've been friends ever since." A nervous laugh darkened Snow's happy exterior, "If we're gonna be technical here, if it weren't for Lexi, I wouldn't have been born."

Aghast at the mere thought, Elena snapped, "Don't talk like that, Snow!" She then sought the two vampires out, observing as they drank shots and played pool, "Lexi is nice. I like her."

That afternoon, after Snow left with Bonnie, Elena threw caution to the wind and followed her gut, which concluded with her entering the Boarding House and being confronted by a towel-clad Lexi – who, admittedly, stared at her strangely, like she was looking at a ghost or something... Initially, she felt her self-esteem drop, and her jealousy reared its ugly head, prompting her to flee the premises. It wasn't until Stefan stopped by and explained the situation, did Elena feel _extremely_ foolish. Stefan mentioned he'd be stopping by Snow's and after her friend texted her, claiming she'd be attending the party, Elena immediately got dressed and headed for the Grill, lying to herself that her only reason for going was to spend time with Snow. _Lie!_

"Me too! She told me she's got many more stories about my mother! I'm so _thrilled_, I can't wait to hear them," she squealed in excitement. At that moment, Stefan joined them, genuinely smiling at the vivacious brunette, "Hey, you came."

Clearing her throat nervously, Elena spared him a small smile, "I couldn't miss your hundredth and… whatever birthday. Plus, Snow—"

Tuning out Elena's _transparent_ attempt to utilize her as an alibi for attending the party, alarmed violet eyes intensely scoured the rowdy room as a large dose of fear slammed into her, the potency of the sensation almost crippling her. The cardinal feeling of conviction that originally shaped the fearfulness consuming her was brushed away as she desperately sought after the subject radiating the profound emotion. The effects on Snow was strong, intoxicating and suffocating and, without realizing, she reached a hand out to stabilize herself, blindly gripping Stefan's forearm and thus, beckoning his and Elena's concern. Their combined attempts to grab her attention, the sound of her name inaudible, failed when she finally laid eyes on the subject of her unfathomable fear: Sheriff Forbes and her deputies were leaving through the backdoor, a pale Lexi dragged alongside them.

"Oh my God!" she gasped, her other hand clenching around Elena's wrist.

Beyond concerned, Elena asked, "What? Snow, what's wrong?"

Tugging at Stefan, her mouth parted, Snow pointed at the scene and almost staggered at the fresh onslaught of fear that enveloped her. Without another word, Stefan frantically shoved his way through the crowd and out of the Grill, irregardless of the deputies waylaying him. Sticking close to him, Snow and Elena flanked the vampire just in time to gain front-row seats to Damon driving a stake into a tearful Lexi's heart, _killing her…_

To muffle her scream, Snow shoved her fist in her mouth, front teeth biting into the knuckles till she tasted blood. Like a puppet on a string, she dropped to her knees, her other hand flat on her chest as an excruciating pain pierced her heart, the organ itself drumming thunderously against her breastbone. It was an exact replication of last night with Vicki – the pain, the tears, the heartbreak, and she just stood there, powerless to stop it. When the pain abated, she couldn't comprehend the meaning of time as, in a trance she shakily got to her feet and opened her eyes, squinting through the wetness to lay her sights on Lexi's previously bright hazel-green eyes staring blankly at the heavens.

And she knew… Lexi Branson was dead. Another life, _gone_, because of Damon.

Without them realizing, Snow left Elena to comfort Stefan, locating Damon her only mission. Finding him leisurely making his way out of the Grill, she quickened her footsteps, "Damon!"

Damon, while he discerned somebody following him, the lack of smell followed by the sweet melodic voice allowed him to identify his current stalker. Smirking lazily, he stopped and turned, only to find himself taken aback by the tearstains that marred her snow-white complexion, though he deftly concealed it. "What can I do for you Snow Silverstone?" he looked incredibly smug, the arrogance and the pride he felt over his accomplishment wrapping around Snow like a straitjacket.

Fresh tears fell down her face like rivulets. "_Why_?" she whispered.

The perpetual smirk didn't falter, despite his bemusement, "Why what?"

"Why'd you have to kill her? What did Lexi _ever_ do to you?" the raven-haired girl demanded, clenching her hand into a fist.

One eyebrow tipped upward. "What's it to you, what are you the _moral police_? You don't even know her," he scoffed, a sneer replacing his smirk as he glared down at her. The amount of morality the girl possessed was sickening. For fifty-one years, he traversed the country as an emotionless vampire, but being in her presence shook his sturdy hold over his off-switch, and he didn't like it. Unfortunately, whenever he conspired to kill her, in order to free himself of the adamantine chains of his slowly emerging humanity, he faltered. She must have one _hell_ of a guardian angel protecting her.

Lips pursed, Snow inclined her head. "That's true. But when I spoke to her tonight, I found out a couple of things, you want to know what?" her voice was soft, almost an inaudible whisper.

Expelling a large breath of pure annoyance, Damon, after rolling his eyes, snapped, "_What_?" He stubbornly stomped on the guilt that flared within him when the meek girl jumped in fright because of his nasty tone and his abruptness. While he _despised_ what Snow Silverstone stood for, and the effect her soft nature and _infallible kindness _had on him, he had never, _not once_, visibly portrayed his feelings to her, always donning a winsome mask in her presence.

"She knew my mother. She saved her life once and if it not for Lexi, I wouldn't be here," Snow revealed softly, her tears a silent stream of angst. "She promised that she'd tell me stories about her. I never knew my Mom, and my Dad stopped talking about her altogether after she died, and soon enough, everyone in this town followed his lead. Are you happy Damon? Now I will _never_ know!"

Damon's smirk dropped. Despite his conflicting feelings about the girl, he never intended to hurt her, and the fact that he was the cause of her pain, of her tears, _again_, killed him, "Snow–"

Her loud hiccup cut him off, "I have _no one_ in my life, Damon. _No one!_ My mother died when I was three, my Dad was barely around, my stepmother and stepsisters treat me horribly. Then my Dad died when I turned nine. Only Caroline, Elena, Bonnie and Vicki were constant fixtures in my life. Grayson and Miranda were like second parents to me and they died. You nearly killed Caroline, you turned Vicki which led to her death… and, and now, _now_ you killed someone that had the potential to become someone important to me… someone to tell me stories I have been wishing to hear since I was a little girl. And you took that from me? Do you hate me or something? Did I, did I do something to you?"

He gaped at her in shock once she had let everything off her chest, rendered speechless. In theory, she got on his nerves because she was inadvertently awakening his humanity, and while he, at times, hated her for that, he was incapable of hurting him. "Snow, of course not, I don't hate you," but even to him, his words sounded weak.

"Then why do you keep taking people from me? I barely have anyone left," Snow cried.

The vampire took a step toward her, attempting to comfort her, but Snow instantly recoiled away from him. "Just, just leave me _alone_, Damon. I can't take it anymore, being around you _hurts_. It hurts… _death_ hurts me!" and with that, Snow turned her back on him and ran, creating a large distance between them, and leaving him to watch her retreating back, severely conflicted. In the recess of Damon Salvatore's mind, the chain wrapped around his humanity weakened.

* * *

_**CAST:**_

**Arielle Kebbel **_**as**_** Lexi Branson**

* * *

"_**Dad's on a hunting trip. And he hasn't been home in two months… and counting. Dad's missing and I need you to help me find him, Sam. He just, he upped and vanished, said he'll be in touch. Two months I've been working my own gigs, waiting, then finally, I get this voicemail yesterday.**_**" **_**– **__**Dean Winchester**_

"_**Dean…something big is starting to happen…I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may… Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger.**_**" **_**– **__**John Winchester**_

"_**He's just deer hunting up at the cabin, he's probably got Jim, Jack, and Jos**__**é**__** along with him. I'm just going to go bring him back.**_**" **_**– **__**Sam Winchester**_

"_**What are we doing for your birthday? It's not everyday a guy turns a hundred and sixty-two years old.**_**" **_**– **__**Lexi Branson**_

"_**I'll miss her but…I think it's for the best.**_**" **_**– **__**Jeremy Gilbert (about Vicki)**_

"_**You can trust Snow. You must trust her. She's worthy of our secret.**_**" **_**– **__**Sheila Bennett**_

"_**We've exhausted every other option. We have to consider the vampire may be walking around during the day. Right in front of us.**_**" **_**– **__**Elizabeth Forbes**_

"_**Look dungeon boy I'm done being your little slave girl.**_**" **_**– **__**Caroline Forbes**_

"_**I'm just jealous of your restraint. I have none. I delight in hedonism.**_**" **_**– **__**Lexi Branson**_

"_**You and Dad still running credit card scams?**_**" **_**– **__**Sam Winchester**_

"_**Damon, stay away from Caroline.**_**" **_**– **__**Stefan Salvatore**_

"_**I think we need to lace Caroline's plumbing with vervain, let her shower in the stuff so Damon can't compel her anymore.**_**" **_**– **__**Snow Silverstone**_

"_**It's my day. And that guy that jump naked in the Trevi fountain and got drunk on the torch of the statue of Liberty, that guy can take a break from all of his worrying for one night and go to a stupid party. So quit your whining and go get ready.**_**" **_**– **__**Lexi Branson**_

"_**I have no desire to tie Elena to Katherine. Ok yes, yes the resemblance is what drew me in. But that's it. Katherine and Elena may look the same on the outside but on the inside they are completely different.**_**" **_**– **__**Stefan Salvatore**_

"_**Oh my god! You're in love with her.**_**" **_**– **__**Lexi Branson**_

"_**It's not the first time she's run off. Turns out Vicki's just like our mother; I can't count on either of them. Thanks for trying.**_**" **_**– **__**Matt Donovan**_

"_**No, you are the only stupid thing here. And shallow. And useless.**_**" **_**– **__**Damon Salvatore (to Caroline)**_

"_**You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl? Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?**_**" **_**– **__**Dean Winchester**_

"_**To Dad? And his crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back.**_**" **_**– **__**Sam Winchester**_

"_**Elena, I took away the suffering.**_**" **_**– **__**Damon Salvatore (about Jeremy)**_

"_**The love of my life was human. He went through, what I imagine you're going through: denial, anger, et cetera. But at the end of the day, love really did conquer all.**_**" **_**– **__**Lexi Branson**_

"_**Snow's really big on fairy tales. And true love. And soulmates. I think you'll be really good for her. The fact you knew her mother, and have stories to tell, those are just bonuses.**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert**_

"_**That's true. I'm shallow, I am worst than shallow, I'm a kiddie pool! God, where's Snow when you need her to make everything better.**_**" **_**– **__**Caroline Forbes**_

"_**I have a diabolical master plan.**_**" **_**– **__**Damon Salvatore**_

"_**Everywhere I've been, pain and death follow; Damon follows me. No more.**_**" **_**– **__**Stefan Salvatore**_

"_**You saved my life. I'm sparing yours. We're even. And now we're done.**_**" **_**– **__**Stefan Salvatore**_

"_**I wish ghosts exist, that way I can see everyone I've been robbed of.**_**" **_**– **__**Snow Silverstone**_

"_**We got work to do.**_**" **_**– **__**Sam Winchester**_

"_**It's coming.**_**" **_**– **__**Emily Bennett**_

"_**It's almost time.**_**" **_**– **__**Sophie Deveraux**_

* * *

**A/N:**** Sorry for killing Lexi; her death had to happen. But this is Mystic Falls, and from what we've seen, death isn't permanent, so you never know what **_**might**_** happen. And so, more revelations occurred and we got some insight into the mysterious Selene Silverstone. What's happening to Snow? Only time will tell!**

**Also, as you can see from the quotes, we've finally kicked off Supernatural! I'll explain more in later chapters, but for now, a head's up, the timeline of Supernatural is going to be very different. For example, the ending of Season 1 corresponds with that of TVD S1. So, in other words, S1 of SPN occurs in the span of a month, not a year like in Canon. Details will be explained later.**

**R&R.**


	10. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:**** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters, ideas and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

_**CHAPTER 9:**_

**DREAM A LITTLE DEATH OF ME**

* * *

**Séance (**_**noun**_**): a meeting at which people attempt to make contact with the dead, especially through the agency of a medium**

"_**Why do the living assume the dead know better than we do? Like they gained some knowledge by dying, but why couldn't they just be the same confused people they were before they died?**_**"**

"_**There is something beyond the grave; death does not end all, and the pale ghost escapes the vanquished pyre.**_**"**

"_**In my dreams I meet the ghosts of all the people who've come and gone.**_**"**

* * *

Another month of bereavement and sleepless nights elapsed. The nightmares ate at her, like a leech sucking the life out of her very core, reducing her into a husk at a leisurely pace. Every odd day, horrifying images repeatedly plagued her unconsciousness, and then, as one week transformed into a fortnight, the nightmares attacked with vengeance, tormenting her on even days as well, allowing Snow not a single night of reprieve. If possible, the night terrors had a worse effect than the nightmares themselves; night after night, she'd jolt out of bed, her hand raw and bloody, tattooed with bite marks, as she had trained herself after the first night to muffle her screams, lest she woke the step-monster and her evil spawns…_again_.

Jolting out of bed, a hyperventilating Snow would be forced to suffer through anxiety attacks by her lonesome. Throughout the day, she was bedeviled by hallucinations of her friends suffering, an effect of her paranoia and substantial fear, or perhaps the results of her sleep-deprived mind, but behind the myriad of shadows she crossed, and every nook and cranny within her line of vision, Snow relived her nightmares, the illusions taunting her – Caroline, mutilated beyond recognition in the Salvatore's cellar; Bonnie, beaten within an inch of her life as a result of her refusal to cooperate and cast spells for the benefit of powerful, egotistical beings; Elena, caged in a circle of fire, every last drop drained from her body to the point of death; Stefan, his heart forcibly torn out of his chest, the organ crashing onto the ground in tandem with his dead body; Jeremy, every bone in his body broken, his end agonizingly slow and painful; Matt, neck viciously snapped and tossed aside like he was garbage; Tyler, a bullet imbedded in his forehead, eyes blank and unseeing; Uncle Richard and Carol Lockwood, their prone forms lying on bed, decapitated in their sleep; Jenna, stabbed to death; Aunt Liz, strangled to death; on and on it went, each of her loved ones starring in a plethora of gruesome murders.

At first, Snow believed the production of such _vivid_ nightmares were the outcome of her fear of Damon as they always started the same, with the deaths of Vicki and Lexi. Until one day, she awoke from dreaming about _him dying_, his death slow, torturous and utterly ghastly that had her crying his name out in the dead of the night in sorrow.

In a state of mourning, Snow initially refused the many invites she received from Elena, Caroline, and Bonnie, begging her to spend the weekend for a sleepover. Jenna called, Aunt Liz called, Grams called, but no amount of convincing broke through Snow's rare bout of intransigence as by that time, her sleep cycle was infected with nightmares and night terrors, and she didn't want to disrupt their nights and become a bother. Nevertheless, during the day, nothing changed; she attended school, constantly evaded Joshua's unremitting attempts to, as the crude saying goes, '_get in her pants_', worked shifts at the Grill, and even asked Roy for extra hours, socialized with her friends, and spent Saturday afternoons with Carol at Lockwood Manor for tea, followed by lunch with Uncle Richard.

To Snow's surprise, Stefan's abrupt absence was felt deeply by her. The day after Lexi's murder, he up and vanished without a word to anyone. Elena called, hysterical, explaining Stefan's – _natural_ – reaction in the aftermath of Damon's ugly deed and of how she made an endeavor to talk him out of murdering his brother – which Snow wholeheartedly agreed with as, despite Damon's actions and Stefan's rage, one day in the future, he'd come to regret it. The broody vampire's phone went straight to voicemail, he didn't show up for school, and when Elena stopped by the Boarding House, she found it bereft of Salvatore vampires. Thus, Snow and Elena were left wondering if Stefan killed Damon and subsequently ditched town. However, what surprised Snow the most, was how unsafe she felt without Stefan around; night after night, upon jolting awake from horrifying, all-consuming nightmares, Snow would clutch her cellphone in her hands, desperate to hear Stefan's soothing voice, ensuring he wouldn't allow anything to harm her loved ones. She couldn't even have that, as Stefan had disappeared without a trace.

Then, one night, just a few days before Thanksgiving, the nightmares reached a different culmination, one that incited a new sensation to resonate within her. Snow found herself _constantly_ paralyzed by fear. Upon the cessation of a loved one's death, Snow would find herself confined in a burning building, the flames licking her skin, melting her to the bone, somebody would scream her name and she would promptly awaken in her room, her muffled screams reverberating in her ears and a thick, metallic taste in her mouth.

Suffice to say, Snow Silverstone never harbored a fear of being burned alive…_until now_.

Despite the onslaught of horrendous images Snow was forced to bear witness to, and the effects her constant fear and paranoia and complete lack of sleep had on her appearance and demeanor – all of which evoked the worriment of her loved ones – Snow experienced a memorable Thanksgiving Day.

Much to Lucille's profound displeasure, Carol personally made another visit to Silverstone Manor, however this time, her husband, the Mayor, elected to join her in order to collect Snow – who stood in the kitchen, arms-deep in cooking preparations – to spend the weekend of Thanksgiving at theirs. An annual Thanksgiving routine at the Silverstone's, Lucille would instruct Snow to prepare the turkey and all the works for herself, her daughters, their distant relations and a few rich guests from out of town. Unlike her friends, Snow had become immune to the unfairness of the ordeal, for every year, despite slaving over a lavish banquet she was prohibited from touching or tasting herself, she would alternate spending the holidays with the Gilbert's, the Bennett's, the Forbes', and the Lockwood's.

If Lucille planned on declining the invitation on Snow's behalf, postponing her departure until Thanksgiving Day arrived in order to give her more time to complete the feast preparations _and_ more importantly, make her scarce at the guests' arrival – as was the annual 'tradition' – Richard's appearance alongside his wife's had her swallowing her tongue. Refusing Carol was one thing, the Mayor of Mystic Falls another. Thus, a vein protruding on her forehead and a smile so tight, her lips risked disappearing, Lucille, in a cloying tone, called Snow from the kitchen and permitted her to spent the weekend at the Lockwood's, forcing her to make a last minute order for a Thanksgiving spread, much to her mortification.

* * *

Emitting a sigh, Snow rubbed her woebegone face against her right shoulder and proceeded to meticulously scrub the pan until the elimination of the residue odor of eggs. Lucille, still furious over the Thanksgiving incident, and the twins, green with intense envy over Snow's close ties with the Lockwood family, had been adamant on making the rest of her life a living hell. Two days ago, Haisley issued an over-exaggerated complaint, claiming her fork reeked of rotten eggs which had Paisley screeching about her lost appetite; Lucille gladly backhanded the raven-haired girl and warned her to pay proper attention to her duties – "_or else!_"

The trio made Snow feel like dirt, and a trait she hated about herself, was of _how much_ disappointing others affected her. Snow getting yelled at felt like a horrible punishment, and it had her feeling useless. Bottom line? Snow hated herself… She hated her weak personality and her complete subservience. Her friends constantly got scolded by their teachers, parents, and guardians and they'd simply shrug it off and carry on with their lives. But Snow? She'd become miserable and her already miniscule sense of self-esteem would get knocked down a few more pegs. But when Lexi informed her about Selene Silverstone, claiming she inherited those traits from her mother, Snow felt her heart soar and swell with pride and acceptance and a sense of belonging. She wasn't the odd individual, the too-kind-for-her-own-good girl; she no longer felt like a failure, or that there was a defect in her personality. No… Snow was like her mother, and that, _that_ was the highest compliment in her eyes. Everything Snow hated about herself, she was learning to love…

Another sigh escaped her. The past month had not been kind to her, the nightmares debilitating her greatly. Unique violet eyes no longer possessed a coruscating sparkle, the shape of her eyes swollen due to the month of nonstop crying and rubbing at them, her cheeks had a smattering of red spots, and her hands were riddled with an ugly cluster of colorful bruises and bite marks, all of which told a dreary tale of her coping mechanism. Worsening Snow's despondency, the step-monster and her evil stepsisters didn't even bat an eyelash regarding the downhearted air she exuded, or displayed a mite of concern over her suffering from anxiety and insomnia.

"_Darn_!" hissing in pain, Snow wrenched her hands from the sink. Drops of crimson trickled down her palm and into the sink, the water turning a murky pink. So immersed was she in her morose reverie, the crystal glass accidentally slipped from her grasp and shattered, causing a shard to get lodged deeply in her palm.

"_Snow Silverstone!"_ Lucille screeched at the top of her lungs, striding into the kitchen. She glared coldly at her impaled hand. "You are paying for breaking that glass, _you waste of space_! I don't care what _issues_ you have, deal with them outside this house. Now go tend to your hand before you dirty my kitchen!" and with another dagger-like glare, the step-monster left, the front door slamming behind her.

Eyes squinted and teeth gritted, Snow, her left hand shaking terribly in an amalgamation of fear and pain, yanked the shard out. A wail emanated from her and she dry-heaved into the sink, clutching her bloody palm to her chest. Tears silently cascaded down her face as she cleaned the cut with antiseptic from the first aid kit. She then swiftly bandaged her hand, changed her shirt into a plain black turtleneck sweater, grabbed her book-bag and cellphone, and left the house, locking the door behind her and disregarding the crimson that was slowly starting to stain the pure-white bandage.

For the third time that morning, Snow let out a sigh, mentally preparing herself for the fifteen minute trek to school. Piling onto the start of what seemed like a horrible day, Bonnie called, apologizing profusely, as she had a witchy issue to deal with and therefore, would be running late for school and cannot pick her up. It was too last minute, Snow decided to not bother Elena and Caroline for a ride. Inhaling deeply, Snow took a step forward, ready for the long, freezing walk.

A car honked, the noise blaring right into her ear. She automatically stepped aside, believing she was blocking the car's path. However, when another honk met her ears, she turned, curious and confused. Relief, fear and shock fought for dominance at the sight of Damon Salvatore, lazily smirking at her from the driver's seat. "You need a ride?"

"You're alive!" she blurted out, clapping her mouth immediately, her face flushed. Intense blue eyes widened for a fraction, raven brows knitting together before amusement filled his features, "Last I checked." Studying her expression, inwardly frowning at the subtle changes in her exterior, he adopted a tone that matched his jocular mood and leaned into the passenger seat, "You thought Stefan killed me after the stunt I pulled with Lexi. _Pfft_, Saint Stefan is _incapable_ of killing me, so don't worry your pretty little head about it."

Eyes downcast, Snow mutely nodded, inwardly glad that, not only was Damon alive and in tip-top condition, but since he was back, Stefan most probably returned to town as well. His frown deepening, Damon opened the passenger door from within the car, "Come on, get in."

"N-no, thank you, Damon," she whispered, pools of violets eyes never detaching from her feet.

During the month away from Mystic Falls, leaving town right after Stefan, and secretly keeping an eye on him from afar, Damon did _some_ soul-searching and had come to the realization that Snow Silverstone was a mystery he needed to decipher. And so, when his baby bro returned, so did he. "Look, just let me drop you off, _please_. I promise I won't bite," he chuckled at his joke. Not wanting to disappoint or infuriate him, she nodded, shoulders slumping in resignation. Slipping into the proffered seat and closing the door behind her, she winced, having accidentally aggravated her injured hand.

Stepping on the engine, he threw her a side-glance, "What happened to your hand?" If it weren't for his augmented eyesight, he wouldn't have noticed her hand and the crimson-stained bandage. Normally, he would have smelt her wound a mile away, but as previously deduced, the Silverstone girl's blood lacked a scent. There was no mouthwatering aroma, no ache in his gums, no urge to sink his fangs into her swanlike neck, _absolutely nothing_!

Violet orbs averted. "Ah, um, I just, I was clumsy. I broke a glass when I was washing the dishes. It's alright," Snow muttered shyly, her cheeks turning rosy and once again, Damon scowled at the mysterious girl when no distinctive scent permeated the interior of his car.

"You should get it checked. It looks pretty bad," Damon attempted for nonchalance. For the first time since stepping into his car, Snow held his gaze, and Damon repressed a flinch, displeased by the haunted quality in her eyes. He subtly scrutinized her features and easily took note of the palpable indications she had been crying… _a lot_. Uncomfortable, his eyes returned to the road, perfectly aware he was responsible for her current disposition; and for a brief moment, he wished he chose another scapegoat, instead of Lexi.

"Can you not smell my blood either?" her eyes never left his form, her voice laced with curiosity. The non sequitur surprised the volatile vampire, prompting him to ignore the road in favor of meeting her intrigued gaze. Noticing his visible confusion, and misconstruing her inquiry as the reason and not because she was talking to him normally instead of yelling or ranting at him for his killing-sprees, Snow elucidated, "Stefan told me I have no smell." A mirthless laugh escaped her, returning her gaze to the road, "I'm more of a freak than I previously thought."

A sudden surge of protectiveness took ahold of him. "You're _not_ a freak!" he snarled, feeling bad when his harsh tone elicited a flinch. What was it about Snow Silverstone that made him soft? _Why_ did he feel an irrational need to protect _her_, _a stranger_? He _despised _her, yet at the same time, found it impossible to hate her – a confounding juxtaposition. Not wanting to terrify her, he changed his tone into one of forced calm, "Yeah, I can't smell your blood either. Not feeling an urge to make a snack out of you."

"Oh," Snow pouted, eyes trained on the window in deep contemplation as their surroundings blurred by. "I was hoping it was just Stefan."

Amused by her disappointment, Damon's patent smirk made an abrupt appearance, "It's actually a good thing if you think about it." Snow fixated him with a challenging look, doleful eyes no more, unknowingly coming out of her shell in the vampire's presence. "Now you won't have to worry about random vampires attacking you."

"Stefan _did_ mention something similar," Snow muttered under her breath, Mystic Falls High entering her line of vision. Damon parked the car and turned to face the raven-haired girl, "We're here. Don't forget to get your hand checked."

Climbing out of the car, she turned and gave him a tentative smile, "Thank you."

Damon shrugged uncomfortably; she shouldn't be thanking him. He was a monster who destroyed everything he touched. "For what?"

"For caring," Snow smiled sadly, not giving him a chance to reply as she hurriedly disappeared inside, leaving the vampire to ponder the enigmatic girl and her equally perplexing personality.

* * *

Lighting up at the sight of Elena and Caroline, Snow skipped their way, just in time to hear Elena say, "Why are you so pissed at her anyway?"

"She's a _thief_, _that's why_. I gave her my necklace and she refuses to give it back. It's a matter of principle," was Caroline's apoplectic response, cornflower-blue eyes narrowed. Falling in line next to the blonde, Snow linked arms with her, "This has been going on for too long, Care. Material goods _do not_ and _should not_ trump a lifelong friendship. Okay?"

Totally disregarding her words of wisdom and the fact that she was a hundred percent _absolutely _correct, Caroline, a pout on her lips, swiveled around to defend herself, only to perform a double-take, gasping at her appearance, "_Why_ do you look like you were crying _and what happened_ to your hand?"

Snow shrugged, "I cut myself with glass when I was doing the dishes. Plus, the step-monster's been a nightmare since Thanksgiving." Caroline scowled at the mere mention of Lucille, mumbling colorful insults under her breath. Elena however, identified the raven-haired girl's diversion tactic and shot her an empathetic smile, knowing how hard Vicki and Lexi's death affected Snow. "Where's Stefan, Elena?" she changed the subject. Since Damon was back, it was a no-brainer Stefan was, too

The brunette emitted a forlorn sigh, "If it weren't for the short text this morning, I wouldn't have known he was back in town. He's avoiding me."

"Why?" Caroline frowned in confusion.

The other two traded subtle looks, uneasy at the constant need to lie to their friends. They couldn't disclose the fact that Damon compelled her to throw a party so that he could kill Stefan's best friend in order to keep their status as vampires a secret from the Founder's Council. Or that Stefan, in a fit of blind rage, declared he was going to kill Damon and skipped town shortly after.

_Saved by the bell!_

The trio stepped into the history classroom, curious regarding their new teacher's identity. An announcement was made in the newspapers, broadcasting the position had finally been filled by an out-of-towner. Since William Tanner's death at the beginning of the school year, history class had been transformed into a self-study session.

Snow took her place between Elena and Caroline, and behind Bonnie, as a handsome man in his early thirties walked in and took his place in front of the board, a friendly smile on his face. His eyes scoured the expectant students.

"Good morning everyone. Alrighty…" he looked around for a moment before grabbing a chalk and writing his name on the chalkboard. Underlining his name twice for emphasis, he turned around to face the class at large, "Alaric Saltzman. It's a mouthful, I know. Doesn't exactly roll off the tongue. Saltzman is of German origins. My family emigrated here in 1755 to Texas. I, however was born and raised in Boston. Now the name Alaric belongs to a very dead great-grandfather I will never be able to thank enough." He chuckled, the sound good-natured, eliciting laughter from the class. "You'll probably want to pronounce '_A_laric' but it's 'Al_a_ric', okay? So, you can call me Ric. I'm your new history teacher."

It may be premature, but Snow already liked him. The initial impression he radiated was, that he was a friendly, kind and down to earth individual; throughout the lecture, he made history exciting, adding life to the previously dull lesson, and encouraged class participation.

"Bon, are you okay? You look off today," Snow's eyes flashed with worry, concerned about her jittery behavior as the bell rang and they left class.

Bonnie sighed and started to explain the weird, vivid dreams that have been plaguing her, "I've been having these dreams about my ancestor Emily, and she's haunting me. I woke up from my dream and found her sitting next to me in class which turned out to also be dream. And then, I ended up at the remains of the old Fell's church before I woke up back in the woods."

"And you always see your ancestor Emily?" Elena inquired.

The pair of hazel-green flickered between Snow and Elena, "Do you believe in ghosts?"

Elena scoffed weakly. "Two weeks ago I'd say no, but now…" trailing off, she shook her head.

"Now we'd say _why not_ ghosts," Snow faintly added; inwardly, she prayed they _did_ exist, because then, maybe Snow would be able to see her parents, and Vicki. Interact with them and no longer feel alone.

An undisputable proof that her loved ones _are_ watching over her.

"I think I'm being haunted," Bonnie blurted out, her expression spooked. Twin expressions of bemusement highlighted Snow and Elena's features. Head moving left and right, Elena asked, "But I don't get it. _Why_ Emily?"

The newly-discovered witch mused over Sheila Bennett's words. "Grams said she was a powerful witch back in the Civil War days, and that this medallion was hers. A witch's talisman," she lifted the crystal necklace from where it comfortably sat around her neck.

Head cocked and gaze unblinking, Snow shrewdly inquired, "Did this ghost whisperer thing start when you got the necklace?"

Bonnie nodded apprehensively, "I think she's using it to communicate with me."

"And what does your Grams say about it?" Elena retorted, brown orbs wide and expectant. Grimacing, Bonne shot each girl a sheepish look before averting their intent stares, "I can't call her. She's gonna tell me to embrace it. I _don't want to_ embrace it, I want it to _stop_." She sounded so petulant and stubborn, Snow expected her to stomp her foot in a childish fit.

Sympathetic, Snow said her piece, "Well if my ancestors were trying to communicate with me, I'd prefer they come right out in the open and say whatever's on their mind instead of haunting me and my dreams."

* * *

This was shaping out to be one horrible day, where everything that could go wrong, _did go wrong_.

Not only was her hand in agony, but Snow had to change the bandages _twice_ before school let them out. She was almost positive her wound required stitches. The only good news was she had health insurance, something Uncle Richard was persistent about, insisting that she carry her insurance card with her at all times, and to her embarrassment, not only did he apply for her, but he also paid for it – a gift from uncle to niece and to establish peace of mind, in his words. Bad news, she had the afternoon shift at the Grill, no ride, _and _her cellphone died.

_Murphy's Law at its finest!_

Elena, Bonnie and Caroline left early as they planned on meeting at Elena's in a few hours for girls' night. The only choice available to Snow was to walk. Once she reached the Grill, she'd personally speak with Roy, apologize for her tardiness, show him her hand, and then quickly make her way to the hospital to stitch up her hands. Hopefully, all the walking and the anesthetic administered wouldn't decrease her possibility of attending girls' night. _'At least I wore my comfortable shoes,'_ she grouchily thought to herself.

"You need a ride?" a familiar voice called out from behind. Pirouetting around, Snow blatantly gaped at the vampire in shock. "N-No it's okay. I've a lot of things to do, I–"

Leaning against his car, his posture lackadaisical, Damon cut in, "Tell me. What's on today's agenda? Because I've time to kill before my night out with baby bro."

Snow's face was flushed a magenta color and her eyes remained downcast. Shyly, she whispered – and if Damon weren't a vampire with _impeccable _hearing, he wouldn't have heard a thing. "Um, well, uh I-I, um...okay." Damon stared at the stuttering beauty in amusement, endeared by her habit of eating her words and inability to form a coherent sentence. According to Caroline – he always made it a point to tune into her nonstop blathering whenever she brought up Snow and Elena – the girl was a wordsmith, but until now, he hasn't seen it. He reached over and griped her chin softly, tilting her head until their eyes collided, prompting her blush to deepen.

"My phone died," she uttered lamely, her doleful violet eyes piercing his intense electric-blues. "And I had to redress my hand twice. I'm gonna have to go to the hospital for stitches but I have, um, my afternoon shift at the Grill… and I can't call Roy. He's by manager. Because my phone died and I'm meeting the girls at Elena's later, so er-, yeah. I'm not having my best day…" she rambled, her porcelain complexion burning with shame.

For his part, Damon didn't know _why_ the girl felt embarrassed. Keeping quiet, he merely released her face and opened the passenger seat, "Hop in. I don't mind being your chauffeur for the day." He then shook his head in disbelief, "I can't believe you were willing to walk all that. For a teenager, you are _surprisingly_ active."

Laughing softly in response, she deposited herself in the car and clutched her wound to her chest. Wordlessly, Damon dumped his proffered cellphone into her lap and drove directly to Mystic Falls Hospital. Snow needn't have worried, Roy, him having a soft spot for her, insisted she not only take the afternoon off, but tomorrow as well, until she was capable of balancing a tray in her hand without upsetting her wound, thus putting her on paid leave. However, upon their arrival, Snow found herself devoid of words when Damon not only escorted her inside, but actually stood by her side as the doctor sutured her hand.

Just as Snow started to believe her day was looking up – Damon Salvatore a surprising and unexpected, but wholly welcome godsend – she was instantaneously proven wrong. "Snow? _What_ are you doing here?" the menacing voice of the step-monster's hissed acerbically, muddy-green orbs penetrating her form. Plastering a fake smile that looked utterly painful at the doctor, who finished bandaging her hand, and Damon, who had an eyebrow cocked, she addressed them, "May I have a word with my stepdaughter?"

The doctor smiled and softly patted Snow on the knee, "I just finished up anyways. Snow, I'll have one of the nurses discharge you once you are done."

"I'll be out, Snow," Damon informed her, ignoring Lucille's star-struck gaze as she blatantly ogled him. He didn't go too far, he positioned himself just outside the door, ensuring he heard the following conversation. The exchange had his blood boiling.

"Well? I'm waiting! You're supposed to be at work, why aren't you?" Lucille snapped, her voice resembling ice.

Snow flinched, "Mr. Dawson gave me the day off so I could get sutures for my hand."

"I don't care about your hand, you _stupid_ girl!" A short silence ensued before Lucille broke into speech, "Hand over $20, Snow. You broke the glass this morning, you pay for it. Don't look at me like that, _girl_, you thought I was bluffing?" she scoffed. Damon heard the distinctive rustling sound and knew Snow had obeyed. "Don't bother coming to the Manor tonight. You can sleep on the lawn. You've delayed me from my Botox appointment. I hope you're happy."

Stepping aside, Damon watched her leave, glaring at the unpleasant woman's retreating back with utmost disgust. Hearing sniffling from inside, his heart thudded painfully against his ribcage and he retook his previous position by her side. Dabbing her tears with a tissue, she forced a smile, "I think something came in my eye."

Damon was spared from answering when a nurse handed over the discharge forms. Jumping onto her feet, she awkwardly signed it with her non-dominant hand and left with the eerily quiet vampire. She inwardly cringed, belatedly realizing that, as a vampire, Damon must have heard her confrontation with Lucille… shame blanketed her.

The drive was filled with a nerve-wracking silence until Damon finally broke it just as he parked in front of Elena's house. "This morning, you thanked me for caring. I get it now. …Your stepmother's a bitch," he stated, matter of factly.

The raven-haired girl nodded before erupting into giggles, "I call her step-monster behind her back." She donned a childish smile and Damon couldn't help but return it in kind, glad that a twinkle was returning to her vibrant eyes. "Thanks Damon," Snow beamed, leaving the vampire and approaching the house.

Expecting Snow, Elena left the front door open, and no sooner did she step inside, did a megawatt smile threaten to break her face in half at the sight of Caroline and Bonnie locked in a tight embrace. "You two finally made up," Snow squealed, tackling Elena in greeting.

"We have," Caroline giggled. "Get ready, Snow, we just agreed on a séance."

Blinking at them, Snow rubbed her ears, hoping she had simply misheard the bubbly blonde. Realizing Caroline was completely serious, her expression turned terrified, "Wh-Why… Why would you want to do that?"

Patting Snow's back in commiseration, Elena explained, "Long story short, Bonnie tossed necklace into a field and it reappeared in her purse. We think its Emily. So Caroline is forcing us to do a séance."

Feeling faint, Snow stared at Caroline in disbelief. The blonde giggled at her reaction and clapped her hands in ebullience, "Come on. Let's summon some spirits. This Emily chick has some _serious_ explaining to do."

In the end, Caroline practically had to drag Snow up the stairs and into Elena's bedroom. Lighting a couple of candles, Elena grudgingly switched off the lights and sat between Snow and Bonnie in a circle. With trepidation, she joined hands with Elena and Caroline, and prayed for nothing to happen – they already had enough problems with the supernatural without _calling_ trouble to them. Unfortunately, this was the price they were paying for promoting Caroline's ignorance; to Bonnie, Elena and herself, they _knew_, without a doubt the supernatural existed. Caroline, however, didn't.

"Be quiet and concentrate. Close your eyes. Now take a deep breath," Caroline spoke in a soothing and even voice, sounding uncannily like those women who practice nirvana. The other three mimicked her. "Bonnie. Call to her," the blonde suddenly broke the silence.

Bonnie huffed and, in an annoyed voice, barked, "Emily, you there?" Despite the situation, Snow bit her lower lip, keeping back a bubble of laughter – Bonnie sounded wholly uninterested, almost like she was yelling at somebody at the other end of her phone.

Apparently sharing her thoughts, Caroline scoffed and glared at Bonnie. "Really? 'Emily, you there?'" she mocked. "That's all you got? _Come on_."

Eyes rolling half-heartedly, Bonnie rolled her shoulders, "Fine, _geez_." Inhaling deeply and exhaling, the Bennett witch adopted a mystical tone, "I call on you. I know you have a message. I'm here to listen."

The words were barely spoken when the candles flared up, the drop of flame atop each wick blazing with a sudden intensity. Four pairs of eyes widened significantly at the unexpected incident, the anomaly spooking them. Elena swallowed the lump in her throat, her voice reflecting her shock, "Did that just…"

Spoken in one breath, Caroline's reply was instant, "Yeah, it just happened."

Emitting a whimper, Snow's grip on Caroline and Bonnie's hands tightened. Comforting the raven-haired girl, Bonnie shook her head, denial bright in her eyes, "It's just the air conditioning."

While the anomaly incited Snow and Elena's discomfort and simultaneous consternation, and terrified Bonnie to the point of keeping herself buried in denial, it encouraged Caroline, her combined stubbornness and determination, as well as her aversion to submitting defeat pushing her forward. Overlooking Bonnie's comment, the blonde probed, "Ask her to show you a sign. _Ask her_." When Bonnie maintained her silence, Caroline huffed and fixated the ceiling with her pair of stubborn cornflower-blues, impatience lacing her voice, "Emily, if you're among us, show us another sign."

Silence… A spell of utter silence bathed the room, and as the quietude escalated, nothing considered abnormal occurred. Snow breathed out a sigh of relief and Bonnie happily said, "See? It's not working—"

The windows slamming open and crashing into the wall had each of the girls jumping in fright, and Snow burst into a squeak-like scream. It took much effort for them to get onto their feet, and Bonnie was the first to succeed, her trembling hands ripping the necklace from her neck, "I can't, I'm done." And with that proclamation, the piece of mystical jewelry was tossed into the circle. As though triggered by her act, the flames extinguished in unison, blanketing the room in pitch darkness. Shaky, and frantic, and rushed, Bonnie yelled, "Get the light. _Please, get the light_!"

Finally succeeding in placing her feet on the ground, Elena scrambled to switch on the lights. Brightness illuminating the room, hazel-green orbs fixated on the ground, disbelief and fear fighting for dominance, "You guys, the necklace. It's gone."

"Gone? How can it be _gone_!"her back against a wall for support, Snow, shaking like a leaf, swept the room in search for an amber reflection. "It _has_ to be here, _somewhere_!"

Driven to impetuousness by pure fear, Elena whipped her head around to face Caroline, "Okay, fun's over, Caroline. You made a point and I get it. Now give it back."

"_What_?" Caroline screeched, drilling an angry hole into Elena. Snow sensed a mixture of sincerity and indignation seeping out of the blonde and directed at the brunette in full blast. "Well I didn't take it."

As Snow and Caroline rummaged through the nook and crannies of Elena's bedroom, the latter reaching to the most sensible conclusion that _perhaps_, one of them accidentally kicked it in their scramble to turn on the lights, Elena checked the hallway. It was Bonnie who found the innocuous-looking necklace responsible for most of the trouble in the past two months, on the bathroom floor. Reaching out for it, Bonnie gave the others a head's up, "Guys–" The door cut her off with a loud bang, trapping Bonnie and sending the girls into a panicky state. "You guys open the door! _Help me_!" she screamed repeatedly in unadulterated terror.

"Bonnie! Bonnie! What's going on, Bonnie?"

Snow, Elena and Caroline proceeded to hysterically bang their fists against the bathroom door, shouting for Bonnie. The door wouldn't open and just when Bonnie's screams seemed endless, a fraught silence suddenly ensued. Slowly – and quiet creepily in Snow's opinion as she couldn't help but recall a similar scene in one of the many thriller movies she witnessed – the door swung open, _by itself_. Huddled together and hands intertwined in death grips, they peeked inside, their eyes landing on Bonnie who stood hunched over, her thick curtain of hair covering her face which was masked by her hands.

Shakily, Snow called out, "Bonnie? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," was Bonnie's immediate retort, the weird quality in her voice eliciting a crease between Snow's eyebrows. Seeking Elena's attention, the brunette subtly inclined her head, wordlessly agreeing with Snow's observation: Bonnie sounded _off_ and _not herself_.

Caroline scoffed and stomped her foot, "Unbelievable! You were _totally_ faking it!"

"Caroline, come on," Elena attempted to pacify her, but didn't know how. She, herself, was at a loss for words. However, the blonde couldn't be placated. She had truly feared for her friend, and _that_, coupled with the séance's creepy cessation had her exceeding her tolerance for the night, "No! You scared the _hell_ out of me."

Breaking into the dissent, Bonnie, her voice unnaturally steady with a…_feathery_ texture, claimed, "I must go." And not waiting for a reaction, the newly-discovered witch left the room, her movements identical to one in a daze. Confusion skyrocketing, Snow and Elena dragged an irritated Caroline alongside them, halting by the stairs.

"Bonnie, you can't just leave," Snow cried out. Her words had no effect; instead, Bonnie's footsteps quickened and Caroline angrily announced her departure, "I've had enough freaky fake witch stuff for one night."

Pausing in her rushed descent down the stairs, Bonnie turned to face them from over her shoulder and eloquently said, "Thank you for having me. I'll take it from here."

"Where are you going?" Elena cried out. Detachment attacked Snow's senses and the look in Bonnie's eyes when their gaze briefly collided had her feeling all kinds of _wrong_… Staring at Elena and Caroline, the witch appeared indifferent, polite, _detached_; however, when hazel-greens landed on Snow, they lit up with a hunger. Not bothering to turn, Bonnie stated in an eerie voice, "Back to where it all began."

Realization dawned like a freight train. "Oh my God, _Emily_!" Elena and Snow gasped aloud. Triggered by the sound of her name, _Emily_, possessing Bonnie's body, snapped around, her dreamy stare morphed into a startling glare head. Disregarding Elena's presence, she maintained eye contact with a terrified Snow, "I won't let him have it. It must be destroyed."

Head shaking rapidly, Snow whimpered, "Yo-You _can't_!" The '_him_' Emily referred to was _clearly_ Damon Salvatore, and the destruction of the necklace would evoke his wrath on Mystic Falls. Risking the volatile vampire's ire and wrath was unacceptable. The town couldn't handle any more '_animal attacks_'. Unfortunately, the door slammed shut behind Emily, and as the trio ran after her, they discovered that Emily had spelled the front door shut as it wouldn't budge, despite their collective strength.

"_What's happening_?" Caroline screeched, completely freaked out. Thankfully, Jeremy, who had arrived in impeccable timing, opened the door from the outside, which prompted three piercing screams of fright. Caroline, not looking back, made a mad dash to her car, "I'm outta here."

Snow honestly couldn't blame her.

Parting from a bemused Jeremy, Elena and Snow raced to the former's car. As Elena concentrated on the road, Snow called Stefan. "St-Stefan, it's Snow. Listen. B-B-Bonnie's being possessed by her ancestor E-Emily. She mentioned going to _where it all began_? We think she's talking ab-about Fell's church, by the old cemetery," she somehow managed to utter in one breath, despite her stutters.

Her statement was met with heavy concern, "What did she say?"

Her free hand sifted through her long locks, twirling them around her hand in a panic, "She said 'I won't let him have it. It must be destroyed.' And then she just, she just l-_left_."

"Just stay there, I'll find her," Stefan quickly imparted before he closed the line.

For the rest of the ride, the two girls remained silent, both of them lost in thoughts, worried over what lay ahead. Whatever Emily planned on doing didn't bode well for Bonnie and the inhabitants of Mystic Falls if it risked inciting his wrath. While the long deceased witch may have good intentions, she was purposely putting Bonnie's life at risk…

Arriving at the location, they found that, not only had Stefan beaten them there, but Damon, too. A pentagram had been carved into the ground, its contours ablaze with wild fire, preventing Damon from passing through, and in the middle of the five-pointed star, stood Emily, determination in her eyes and the necklace in her grip. Despite the impassable fire, Damon, a bloody spot smearing the torso of his shirt, pleaded with her, the desperation and devastation in his voice hitting Snow with profound sadness.

Tearing her gaze from Damon, Snow joined Elena, approaching Stefan while calling out for Bonnie, hoping she'd combat the hold her dead ancestor had on her and regain control and movement of her limbs.

"_No_!" Damon yelled as Emily tossed the necklace high into the air. The necklace, in its airborne state, suddenly exploded over Emily and the pentagram, its residue raining numerous specks of glittering fireworks, signaling the completion of the spell and the destruction of the amber-crystal. Subsequently, Emily's head sagged lower and when she looked up, the pair of almond-shaped orbs blinked and hazel-greens inspected its surrounding in horror, fear and most of all, confusion, indicating Emily's departure. About to move toward her friend, she abruptly stopped short when a murderous sensation resonated through her, overcoming the bleak resignation she faintly recalled sensing not a moment ago.

Looking around, violet orbs screeched to halt on Damon, his handsome features contorted with apoplectic rage. "_Stefan_–" but her warning came late. Stefan answered her incomplete exclamation with a questioning look after which a shrill scream rent the air. Three dissimilar pairs of eyes – violet, forest-green, and chocolate-brown – flickered around the expansive terrain and landed on Damon and Bonnie; the vampire had the witch entrapped in his brutal grip and had sank his fangs into her neck, his bite merciless as he ravenously drank her blood.

Simultaneously, Snow keeled over. Palm down and fingers splayed, her hand slammed onto the earth to maintain her balance and prevent herself from falling face down, the other hand however, clutched the right side of her neck. Trapped in a spell of excruciating pain, Snow felt miniscule razors biting into her neck, ripping through skin and tearing into her carotid artery, and it took everything in her to breathe calmly through the pain and keep quiet, not wanting to draw attention to herself. Just as the vertigo struck and blackness began to cloud her vision, her torment receded. Blinking through the moisture in her eyes, Snow saw that Stefan had pulled Damon away from Bonnie.

She quickly shot to her feet and looked at her hand in confused disbelief – it was devoid of any blood. Hysterically running a hand over her neck, it smoothly slid past undamaged skin.

…_What was happening to her? _

Snow stumbled her way to Stefan and Elena, both of whom were kneeling by Bonnie's fallen form, checking for a pulse. She cringed at the aftermath of Damon's violence, a sob escaping her when Bonnie remained unresponsive. Almost as though her head was submerged in water, Snow barely made out Stefan's declaration that Bonnie was still alive before he ripped into his wrist and fed her his blood. Together, Elena and Snow watched in awe as Bonnie's neck knitted together, returning to its pristine state, and if not for the crimson stains, no one would know Bonnie was attacked by Damon.

The three best friends were safely ensconced in Elena's car, and as Snow comforted a freaked out Bonnie in the backseat, she met Elena's meaningful gaze and nodded – it was time they inform Bonnie about _everything_. Once Bonnie finally calmed down, her sobs subsiding into hiccups, Snow entered a trance, her hand subconsciously pressed against her neck throughout the entirety of the car ride.

One thought continued to plague her – '_what's happening to me!?_'

* * *

"_**Spirits and demons don't have to unlock doors. If they want inside, they just go through the walls.**_**" **_**– **__**Dean Winchester**_

"_**This book. This is Dad's single most valuable possession – everything he knows about every evil thing is in here. And he's passed it on to us. I think he wants us to pick up where he left off. You know, saving people, hunting things. The family business.**_**" **_**– **__**Dean Winchester**_

"_**Snow! I think Stefan killed Damon. He's not answering his phone, no one's home, and Damon's car is missing. Does it make me a bad person if I'm more concerned with him blowing town without a word, than the fact he might've killed his brother? Ugh, don't answer that. I'm conflicted. And I am so going to Hell.**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert**_

"_**The trail for Dad. It's getting colder every day.**_**" **_**– **__**Sam Winchester**_

"_**Lucille Silverstone does not have a redeeming bone in her body!**_**" **_**– **__**Caroline Forbes**_

"_**There shall be no trouble. Sheriff Forbes, her deputies, and Mayor and Mrs. Lockwood have all been taken care of.**_**" **_**– **__**Sheila Bennett**_

"_**When I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my Mom, and I was scared, too. I didn't feel like talking, just like you. But see, my Mom—I know she wanted me to be brave. I think about that every day. And I do my best to be brave.**_**" **_**– **__**Dean Winchester**_

"_**Madam Styne, I do hope there won't be an issue here. Snow is a part of my family. She will be spending the entire weekend with us.**_**" **_**– **__**Richard Lockwood (to Lucille)**_

"_**Your Mom still trying to set you up with Snow?**_**" **_**– **__**Matt Donovan (to Tyler)**_

"_**Dean, you know what most Dads are when their kids score a full ride? Proud. Most Dads don't toss their kids out of the house.**_**" **_**– **__**Sam Winchester**_

"_**Dad was afraid of what could've happened to you if he wasn't around. But even when you two weren't talkin'… he used to swing by Stanford whenever he could. Keep an eye on you. Make sure you were safe.**_**" **_** – **__**Dean Winchester**_

"_**The Bennett Matriarch has done her part. And I've done mine. He's ready.**_**" **_**– **__**Sophie Deveraux**_

"_**The Darkness remains watchful and Evil is almost at your front door.**_**" **_**– **__**The Spirits**_

"_**I have these nightmares, and sometimes…they come true. Look, Dean…I dreamt about Jessica's death, for days before it happened. … No, I dreamt about the blood dripping, her on the ceiling, the fire, everything, and I didn't do anything about it 'cause I didn't believe it.**_**" **_**– **__**Sam Winchester**_

"_**Dad? I know I've left you messages before. I don't even know if you'll get 'em. But I'm with Sam. And we're in Lawrence. And there's somethin' in our old house. I don't know if it's the thing that killed Mom or not, but… I don't know what to do. So, whatever you're doin', if you could get here. Please, I need your help, Dad.**_**" **_**– **__**Dean Winchester**_

"_**This is where it started. And this is where it has to end.**_**" **_**– **__**Emily Bennett**_

"_**I got the town off our back. It was for the greater good, but I'm sorry. And, to prove it, I'm not gonna feed on a human. For at least a week. I'll adopt a Stefan diet! Only nothing with feathers.**_**" **_**– **__**Damon Salvatore**_

"'_**Cause I realize that killing your closest and oldest friend is beyond evil, and yet somehow, it's worthy of humor.**_**" **_**– **__**Stefan Salvatore**_

"_**You know that your old teacher had a jackass file? No joke. It's typed on a label. It has all the troublemakers in it. But really it's just an opus—to you. Don't worry about it, I'm not him. Clean slate.**_**" **_**– **__**Alaric Saltzman (to Jeremy)**_

"_**I didn't kill my brother, as much as he deserved it. He has you to thank for that.**_**" **_**– **__**Stefan Salvatore**_

"_**I know a lot of things, and I know more about that crystal than you do, and I know that she's using it to creep inside of you. See how scared you are? And, you should be, because I will get that crystal, even if I have to wait for Emily to give it to me herself. So, next time she comes out to play, you tell her that a deal's a deal.**_**" **_**– **__**Damon Salvatore**_

"_**He came for a reading. A few days after the fire. I just told him what was really out there in the dark. I guess you could say…I drew back the curtains for him.**_**" **_**– **__**Missouri Moseley (about John Winchester)**_

"_**Dad going missing and Jessica dying and now this house all happening at once – it just feels like something's starting.**_**" **_**– **__**Sam Winchester**_

"_**Grams isn't the one being haunted by a hundred and fifty year old ghost, is she?**_**" **_**– **__**Bonnie Bennett**_

"_**Her name was Emily. She was Katherine's handmaiden, and a witch.**_**" **_**– **__**Stefan Salvatore**_

"_**What is going on? Why am I not a part of this conversation? You guys do this to me all the time.**_**" **_**– **__**Caroline Forbes**_

"_**The basics…fell in love, married young, my wife died.**_**" **_**– **__**Alaric Saltzman**_

"_**It wasn't real, Damon. Our love for Katherine. She compelled us. We didn't have a choice. Took me years to sort that out, to truly understand what she did to us.**_**" **_**– **__**Stefan Salvatore**_

"_**The Pure…**_**" **_**– **__**Emily Bennett**_

"_**You saved everyone in the church?**_**" **_**– **__**Stefan Salvatore (to Emily)**_

"_**Dean. Sam. I'm sorry.**_**" **_**– **__**Mary Winchester**_

"_**What's happening to me?**_**" **_**– **__**Sam Winchester**_

"_**Katherine never compelled me. I knew everything. Every step of the way. – **__**Damon Salvatore**_

_**Snow Silverstone:**_** "**_**You shouldn't have hurt Bonnie. It wasn't her. She was being possessed by Emily.**_**" **_**Damon Salvatore:**_** "**_**Well, Snow, what can I say… I've always been an avid believer of killing the messenger.**_**"**

"_**That boy…he has such powerful abilities. But why he couldn't sense his own father, I have no idea. John Winchester, I could just slap you. Why don't you go talk to your children?**_**" **_**– **__**Missouri Moseley**_

"_**I want to. You have no idea how much I wanna see 'em. But I can't. Not yet. Not until I know the truth.**_**" **_**– **__**John Winchester**_

"_**You saved her life. I'm sorry, Stefan. I thought that I couldn't be with you, but I can. You don't have to push me away. I can do this.**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert**_

"_**Just a head's up. He's in position.**_**" **_**– **__**Sophie Deveraux**_

* * *

**A/N:**** Done! Can anyone guess what is happening to Snow?**

**(1) I hope you liked the Snow/Damon bonding! And I'm sure Damon fans out there have been worried this'll be a Damon Bashing fic. Well, you can relax. It's not. While I, personally, am not Damon's greatest fan, and at times, cannot stand him and his hypocrisy (especially once the Originals entered the fray), this story is all about neutrality because of Snow. So enjoy!**

**(2) On another note, I've mentioned in the previous chapter that SPN Universe will be happening differently. Since Season 1 will be squeezed into a couple of months (S1 of TVD ends in February), the episodes won't be occurring in chronological order. So, to not confuse anyone, I'm listing the episodes that occurred until now (there is a month gap between chapter 8 & 9): The Wendigo, Dead in the Water (the one with the ghost in the lake), Bloody Mary, Hook Man, Bugs, and lastly, Home.**

**R&R.**


	11. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:**** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters, ideas and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

_**CHAPTER 10:**_

**THE GODFATHER**

* * *

**Closure (**_**noun**_**): finality; letting go of what once was; complete acceptance of what has happened and an honoring of the transition away from what's finishing to something new**

"_**What was closure if not a clock? Not an end as everyone imagined, but a beginning.**_**"**

"_**How dare you! How dare you leave me! How could you go and die and leave me here all alone? Please come back. I need you. Please come back.**_**"**

"_**All I wanted was to get a little bit of closure, and every step I took I looked and wasn't any closer.**_**"**

* * *

Standing in the parlor by the window, Damon aimlessly studied the picturesque environs of Mystic Falls, lost in thought, like he had been for almost a day. Damon Salvatore had been standing on the exact spot, unmoving and unresponsive. For a _hundred_ and _forty-five_ _years_, he possessed a single drive that impelled him to wake up every day and proceed with life as a vampire. He had one focus, one goal, _one_ _obsession_: free his one and only true love, Katherine Pierce, from the spelled tomb. With Katherine free and by his side, Damon would finally be happy with his eternal life. But now? …_Now_ that Emily Bennett destroyed the crystal along with his hope of unsealing the tomb, Damon needed guidance from a powerful witch.

His back turned and intense eyes focused on the view before him, Damon beat Stefan to the punch with a sarcastic greeting, having heard his unsubtle footsteps descend the stairs, rummage around in the kitchen and then _slowly_, almost like a terrified gazelle, walk the hall that led to the parlor and ultimately, to him. Not like it was a difficult chore, even without their impeccable senses, the elder Salvatore barely moved from his position.

"So, any ideas where you'll go?" Stefan made an impressive attempt for nonchalance, when really, he was ensuring Damon would skip town with him and relieve Mystic Falls from his killing-spree and leave the death count at its current alarming number.

Back still facing Stefan, a mockery of a smirk painted his lips. Imitating his brother's nonchalance, Damon faked deliberation, "I don't know. London, maybe. See some friends."

Skeptic, brows jumping in unison, Stefan kept his voice even, "You don't have any friends, Damon." He wasn't trying to be mean, simply stating a fact. Damon had no shortage of girls hanging around his arms, yes… but friends? No. He had Stefan. That was it. Grinning widely, not the least bit affected by Stefan's words, Damon finally, for the first time since Emily's departure from Bonnie Bennett, met his eyes, "You're right, Stefan. I only have you. So, where are _we_ goin'?"

Skepticism morphed into a deadpanned stare. "_We_ are not going anywhere. _I'm_ gonna live my life as far away from _you_ as possible," forest-greens hard and unyielding, Stefan didn't wait for any form of his brother's limitless rejoinders, and with one last glance, he left the parlor. He was sick and tired of death and destruction following his wake. Every time he proffered an olive branch, or threw Damon a bone, stupidly believing the colorful promises of brotherhood he spun, he'd turn around and stab him in the back – sometimes _literally_. Stefan's last bout of blind ignorance in regards to Damon's 'eternal of misery' vow culminated with Lexi's death. Well, _no more_!

Damon's exterior portrayed a smirk, albeit a weak one, and utter unconcern, his stance unaffected by Stefan's volleyed words. Inwardly however, it was _hands down_, a punch to the gut, Stefan's desire to remain as far away from him as possible a burgeoning wound that would no doubt, start to fester the moment Stefan begins to create a distance between them. Turning back to the window, Damon slammed his eyelids shut to mask the battle waging in his electric-blue orbs – Stefan's reaction was to be expected. _He had_ promised him an eternity of misery, and when the brothers were just starting to form a passive aggressive relationship, built on a tentative alliance and a lack of trust, he went and killed his best and oldest friend.

Exhaling roughly from his nostrils, Damon abandoned his post by the window and took large strides after his brother. He forced a sparkle of mischief into eyes and playfully retorted, "But we're a _team_! We could travel the world together. We could try out for 'The Amazing Race'."

And there's that rejoinder; a few seconds late in regards to Damon's usual standards, but there nonetheless. Stefan honestly wondered if Damon lost his touch…. _apparently not_. "Mmmm, that's funny," Stefan replied blandly. Damon almost flinched at Stefan's blatant show of disinterest as well as the lack of emotion on his face and in his voice. "Seriously, where are you going? Because we are not staying in this town," Stefan probed, snapping the elder Salvatore from his train of thoughts.

However, before Damon's parted lips could eject some form of deflection, the doorbell rang, pervading their surroundings with the shrilly disturbance. The brothers' dissimilar eyes collided, thought they brimmed with identical confusion. They had a pathetic shortage of visitors, and after Stefan's rejection and subsequent termination of their relationship, Elena wasn't about to stop by, _ever_.

Stefan, eyes narrowing in suspicion, took his time to answer the door. Opening it, surprise hit him like a freight train. Jaw dropping in comical astonishment, Stefan trained his wide, bulging eyes at the smirking man on the other side – a man whose face belonged to somebody who attempted, and failed, to stake him and was therefore, murdered by Damon… _two months ago_. "Stefan Salvatore. Can I come in? Of course I can," the man's smirk put Damon's to shame. His voice filled with amusement, he patted Stefan on the shoulder, sidestepped his frozen form – as he was trying to process this sudden complication – and entered the Boarding House, "How do you keep unwelcome vampires out?"

It was a rhetoric question. In fact, every single question that sprung from his mouth was rhetoric and laced with a combination of sarcasm and mischief. Tongue-tied, Stefan mechanically closed the door, and thankfully, a curious Damon joined them by the foyer, his expression as flabbergasted as his brother's.

"Awh, _come on_! I know I look dashing and all, but seriously, you two need to use your words," the intruder grinned, hands interlaced behind his back as his hazel eyes flickering between them expectantly.

Restoring usage of his tongue, Damon took a threatening step forward and snarled, "Logan Fell. I killed you."

"That's an _excellent_ observation. Good to know you've been putting those long years of immortality to good use," Logan quipped, glaring mockingly at the volatile vampire. He was baiting him, and Damon itched to rip his heart off, but his surging curiosity stayed his hand. "That would make me a…" he trailed off, sounding like he was hosting 'The Price Is Right'.

Still going with the motions, Stefan promptly said, "Vampire." Realization belatedly setting in the moment the word escaped him.

Logan brought his hands together in satiric applause, "_Ding, ding, ding_! And we have a winner."

Assured that he wasn't at risk of getting mutilated or killed by either Salvatore until he revealed the cause behind his return to Mystic Falls after two months of playing dead, he turned his back on them and confidently strolled into the living room, instantly depositing himself on a wingback armchair upholstered in slate-gray linen. No sooner had he made himself comfortable, leisurely leaning into its tufted backrest, did Damon and Stefan materialize in front of him, their demeanors rearranged from bemusement to menacing, and to the former's immense _frustration_, Logan merely stared back, unflappable.

"_How_ are you a vampire? You have to die with vampire blood in your system," Damon demanded abruptly, the '_answer or else_' heavily implied in his tone. Hazel orbs performed a mocking eye roll. "I'm intimately aware with the convoluted process, _obviously_," he quipped, the final word drawled in glaring sarcasm accompanied by a flourishing gesture toward his form that said '_hello, vampire_'.

The sound discharged by teeth grinding together echoed disturbingly in the room, and Stefan immediately cut in before Damon lost the last vestiges of his already thin patience and pursued his unspoken threat. "What about that daylight ring on your finger? You're new to all this… How did you get it?" Stefan demanded, suspicious eyes abandoning the cocky smirk painting his lips to fixate on Logan's left hand where a chunky ring embedded with lapis lazuli adorned its pinky finger.

Intense electric-blue eyes dropped to examine Logan's hand, jaw taut, "Exactly, the Founding Families were _clueless_." Changing route, Damon snapped, "Why are you here?"

Hands up, palms facing the brothers, Logan let out a huff, "Can you limit your questions to one at a time, I'm not exactly going anywhere." He then rolled his eyes. Suddenly, in the timeframe of an eye blink, Logan's entire demeanor transformed, no longer exuding an air of effrontery and mischief, "I'll tell you whatever you want to know, but first, since between the two of you, Stefan seemingly inherited the trait of patience, I need you-" solemn pair of hazel eyes were intent on Damon, "-to maintain your composure and think before you speak."

Disregarding Logan's _demand_, his audacity sparking Damon's rage, his vampire face was second's away from emerging and he flexed his fingers. Cool and collected Stefan, on the other hand, having recognized the signs alluding to Damon's infamous temper tantrum before its escalation into mass murder, slapped a hand to his chest, bringing him up short with a meaningful glare. Aggressively rolling his eyes and probably bruising his sockets as a result, Damon sharply inclined his head and none too gently, filled out the second wingback armchair, his glare never leaving their intruder. Shaking his head softly, Stefan took the similarly upholstered loveseat positioned between the two. All the while, Logan stared at their interaction, wholly unruffled.

"There's a reason I stopped by," he prefaced after a brief silence. "I don't quite care about either one of you. Unfortunately, unless you've spoken to someone or a number of someone's about the night I was killed by Mr. Trigger Happy over here-" he absently jutted his chin at a seething Damon's direction, "-then you two dimwits are the only ones in Mystic Falls that'd instantly identify me for what I've become," Logan elucidated, not bothering to mince his words. His inability to stick to one emotion was beginning to give the brothers whiplash – an abrupt, cocksure grin curled on his lips. Abandoning the armchair's comfort, Logan encircled the furniture and folded his arm on its outside back, "Now I gotta be honest here, in the beginning, when I woke up buried in the ground behind a used car dealership on highway 4, I was _really pissed off_! Then I find out I'm transitioning into a creature I was raised to hate and exterminate… _I was furious_, consumed by vengeance on you both."

Smirking at the chance to infuriate Logan, Damon flippantly quipped, "Take a number and get in line." His mood was short-lived however, when the Fell vampire responded with a smirk, his attempt to provoke him into a rage having failed. Stefan rolled his eyes and resumed his questioning, "But…?"

"But not anymore," Logan stated laconically.

Doubt in his eyes, Stefan leaned forward, "What changed your mind?"

Expelling a long-drawn-out sigh, Logan retook his seat, hazel orbs concentrating on a point above Damon's head, "As I was resisting the urge to drain a late-night jogger dry, a woman intervened. Told me it'd be in my best interest to listen to what she had to say. She didn't strike me as a threat; a beautiful, young lady walking the streets in the middle of the night, willing to entertain some stranger, I didn't think much of her. I followed her to her car and just as I was about to feed from her, she hit me with a killing aneurysm-"

"_Witch_," the Salvatore brothers breathed out in unison, now fully engrossed in his story.

The smirk stayed on his lips as a humming sound vibrated from his throat, "Would ya believe my luck? Out of _everyone_ I could've run into. Turns out, our meeting wasn't a coincidence. She specifically came to town looking for me…but I digress." He waved a hand and met the intrigued brothers' stares. Damon made a noise, almost like he were about to contradict Logan and demand for an elaboration, but Stefan silenced him with _a look_. "She imparted a great deal of _interesting_ information to me, and before leaving town, she performed an impressive bit of magic on the Council, kind of like compulsion, but different."

Strange horror-like realization graced Damon's features, "She _erased_ their memory of your death." He had been wondering why there hasn't been a single mention of Logan Fell's death, at least amidst the Founder's Council. Now he knew why. _That lucky weasel!_

"Yeah. _Unfortunately_, Liz managed to send Jenna a text from my cell claiming I left town. _That bitch_," he grumbled to himself. The only silver lining with the entire ordeal was he now knew where his true loyalties laid – definitely not Liz Forbes who, despite knowing him since he was six years old, didn't have any qualms or reservations with tossing him into a shallow grave and sweeping his sacrifice under the rug. "Anyway…" shaking his head, he quashed the self-denigrating inner musings that's been perturbing him since the realization of what his fate would have been, if it weren't for the vampire blood in his system, settled in. "After intervening on my behalf, we ditched town. She made me a daylight ring and helped me establish self-control so I wouldn't become a Ripper-" he pointedly glanced at an ashamed Stefan who developed a sudden interest in his feet, "-or a psychopathic vampire who could snap at any moment and indulge in mass murder whenever he's angered or feeling emotional," he smiled sardonically at Damon, who responded with a fake grin through gritted teeth, the urge to kill Logan Fell resurfacing.

…So he was still feeling a bit testy over Damon killing him. _Sue him_.

Stomping those urges, Damon forced a modicum of calmness into his tone, "You mentioned the witch sharing information with you. What did she say?"

Lifting a honey-blonde brow, Logan shook his head, "Sorry, but that's confidential." Contrary to his words, he didn't look apologetic at all. Reflexes quick, Stefan reached out and shoved a snarling and hissing Damon back into the armchair. He then glared at Logan upon hearing the bark of laughter that left him, his devil-may-care attitude not helping. Stefan shook his head – the irony of the situation hadn't escaped him; Damon truly met his match in Logan Fell. Back to the matter at hand, Stefan, brows furrowed, met the pair of amused hazels with his suspicious forest-greens, "A witch wouldn't team up with a vampire. Why should we trust you?"

"And what's witchy's name?" Damon sneered, his sclerae tinged an ominous pink.

Smiling at Damon, Logan cheekily repeated, "Again, confidential, Damon." Huffing, he wiped all signs of levity from his comportment and countenance, "Look, all you need to know, _the only reason I came here_, is to give you a head's up that I'm a vampire and I'm only interested in peace-" he was interrupted by a disbelieving scoff from Damon. "There're no hard feelings. _Honestly_. We can coexist peacefully and amicably in Mystic Falls without the constant need to look over our shoulders."

Again, Damon interjected, his tone incredibly hostile and laced with sarcasm, "Listen, _pal_. Stefan and I, we didn't survive this long by trusting every Bill, Bob and Barry that crossed our paths and preached peace, _okay_. Whatever you're selling, I'm not buying it."

His comment prompted Stefan's expression to slowly mirror his disbelief. Annoyed, Logan dragged a hand down his face and rubbed his chin, "Despite my absence, I still had eyes on you, _all of you_." Damon's expression darkened and even Stefan looked menacing. "Elena Gilbert associating with the two of you and endangering Jenna-" he abruptly cut himself off and looked away, inhaling and exhaling sharply as veins appeared on his eyelids and his sclerae turned crimson. "I only care about two people in this town, Jenna and Snow, and I'm here to ensure their safety, no matter the cost. You can take it or leave it, either way, as long as they remain in this vampire-infested town, I'm not going anywhere."

A long and confused silence ensued.

Speechless, the Salvatore brothers exchanged dumfounded looks at the unexpected revelation. Unable to handle his confusion a moment longer, Damon burst into speech, "_Snow_, why _Snow_? I mean, Jenna, yeah _her _I get, you're in love with her etcetera, etcetera, but _Snow_? I've never seen you make an effort to interact with her or get to know her. Who _is_ she to you?"

Lips pursed, Logan trapped them under his unnerving stare, contemplating on whether or not he should confide in them. However, quickly mulling his decision over, he reached a verdict. During his absence, he heard about Snow's friendship with Stefan and her blossoming one with Damon… and with Elena as one of her best friends, either way, the troublesome vampires would find out eventually. Sighing, he acquiesced. "I grew up with her mother. Selene and I, regardless of the slight age difference between us, we were best friends. So much so, Selene made me her godfather. Snow doesn't know any of this, though I _do_ intend on fixing that," he added in afterthought. It was clear to Logan that both brothers were vehemently taken aback by the disclosure. "Her father, on the other hand, was an acquaintance. Regrettably, I don't know much about him, but the last time I saw him, I promised if anything were to happen to him, that I would take care of his little girl."

Recovering from his shock, Damon turned to the bar, and after pouring himself a short-glass of bourbon, snapped, "Well, one thing's for sure, I wouldn't want you making me any promises. Snow's father's been dead almost _eight years_, where the hell've you been, _huh_!?" Stefan blinked at Damon, surprised by the potency of his anger, but all Damon could think about was the abysmal treatment and the constant abuse Snow suffered from Lucille Silverstone.

Eyes narrowed, Logan concealed the fact that Damon's _accurate_ statement hit a sore spot with a sneer, "Isn't it too early for bourbon!"

"You're deflecting," Stefan pointed out, the corner of his lips twitching upward.

Guilt and regret warring together featured heavily on Logan's face, and he carded a hand through his honey-blonde hair, tousling it – a nervous tick. "Look, I was young and stupid, _okay_? I was selfish and angry with the world for taking Selene away. When Stan died, I was _twenty-six_, my career was on the rise and… I, I was a bachelor and, as much as I am ashamed to say this, I didn't want a kid ruining that for me. Today, I'm _not_ that guy." He then trained the nonchalant day-drinker with the full force of his glare, "But then I heard about the _animal attacks_, and I knew Mystic Falls was crawling with vampires again. I couldn't stay away. The thought of Snow in danger and the _promise_ I broke, not to mention Selene trusted me with her daughter. I came back _for_ Snow. It's better late than never."

A noncommittal noise that sounded like a mix of a grunt and a sigh left Damon as he imbibed the last drop of bourbon. "I honestly don't care. I'm leaving town, so it's not my problem. But _broody_ over here with the hero hair _might_ be worried about Elena with a baby vampire out and about," Damon commented airily, eyes cunning and lips sly.

Stefan felt torn… On one hand, him leaving town guaranteed Damon's departure, and Elena's safety was more important than his happiness. On the _other _hand, Logan Fell was a risk factor – he may have been genuine regarding his desire to keep Snow safe, but the girl had no scent and therefore, unlike the population of Mystic Falls, wasn't likely to become an accidental victim. But then again…. according to Logan, he returned to town _because_ he gained self-control, and from his experiences, no self-proclaimed witch would allow a vampire to run amok if he had trouble controlling his bloodlust.

Reluctantly, Stefan said, "I'm gonna give you the benefit of the doubt."

"What, _that's it_?" a pouting Damon whined, looking extremely put out by his little brother's trusting nature. "No exchange of threats. No fighting for Elena's safety. No '_or elses_'!? _Come on, Stef_!"

"Like I said, _psychopathic_," Logan smirked, emphasizing his claim with the universal hand gesture for 'crazy'. He promptly ducked the short-glass hurled his way courtesy of a glowering Salvatore, and a chuckle left him, "Real mature, Damon. Anyway, you gonna believe anything I say, believe this, you're barking up the wrong tree. _I'm_ _not_ the one you should be worried about."

With a sarcastic smile to match his equally sarcastic tone, Damon snarked, "Oh yeah, and why's _that_?"

Wholly incapable of turning down the chance to insult and subsequently provoke Damon – _his murderer, Hello!_ – Logan arched a brow, radiating an air of haughtiness. "Since neither one of you dimwits slipped me blood, how _exactly_ do you think I got this way?" Logan asked rhetorically, not really expecting an answer. Stefan and Damon stopped short, their brows furrowed and mouths parted in shock – out of _all_ the questions, the most important one slipped their minds! "Big brother here isn't the only one obsessed with opening that damn Tomb."

Stefan groaned at the renewed light in Damon's eyes. All the doubts, his feelings of a hope forever lost, vanished. Abandoning his position by the bar, he sped in front of Logan, a hunger resonating within, "_Who_?"

"Couldn't tell you, man. They weren't forthcoming with their names. All I know, is there are three vampires in town, uh…" Pensively, Logan slowly uttered, "One female, two males. The girl though, I got the vibe she's the leader of their little triad. She's short, about _yay_ high-" he demonstrated with his hand and stroked his chin with the other, "-got a baby face. The guys: tall, dark, handsome – the usual cliché; _although_, the younger of the two looks really familiar, but I can't put my finger on it. They uh, they found me on my way back to town, instructed me to stir up trouble, spy on you and report back." A hateful scoff left him and he sneered, "Like I'd listen to them. I don't take orders from _anyone_, especially not murderous vampires that could pose a threat to my goddaughter and the girl I love."

Skeptic, Damon stated, his tone of voice resembling one reporting the weather, "I don't believe you."

Eyes twinkling incandescently, Logan responded with a shrug, his mischievous nature restored, "I know you probably don't hear this often, and it may come as a surprise to you, but I don't really care about your opinion of me." A chuckle that couldn't be repressed burst out of Stefan, prompting Damon to glower at him. Smirking, Logan winked at the younger Salvatore. "I only care about Snow. And Jenna. But Snow _always _comes first." Dusting imaginary lint from the rolled-up sleeve of his button-down shirt, Logan moved toward the front door, "Since I lived alone, I moved to a new place. If you need anything, you'll know where to find me."

And just as sudden as Logan Fell entered the Boarding House, he left. Dumbfounded, the brothers remained rooted in their spot. It was impossible for Stefan to leave Mystic Falls with three unknown vampires on the loose. Turning a member of the Council into a vampire was a risky move, one that spoke volumes about them.

"So, we're not leaving anymore, _right_," Damon, again, nonchalantly broke the silence, expectant gaze on his brooding brother.

Stefan glared, "_I'm _not."

Neither was Damon, and not because Stefan chose to remain. _No_… If three vampires were attempting to get into the Tomb, it meant there _must be another way to open it_. He just needed a Plan B, and he knew _just who_ he would be paying a visit. _His favorite witch…_

* * *

Winter has always been Snow's favorite season. While physiologically difficult to coax your way out of bed due to the biting wind, the chance of rain, or perhaps the gloomy darkness shrouding your bedroom as the sun's full potential got blocked by countless clouds, Snow adored winter mornings. The moment her alarm went off, the raven-haired beauty would draw back the curtains and open the windows, allowing the weak sunlight and the sharp winter breeze to whip past her face and stream into her bedroom, her ivory complexion already beginning to redden from the cold.

Erroneous assumptions were made in regards to Snow and her love for the coldest season of the year. Some claimed – and _lame claims that were wholly unoriginal _– her partiality for winter was a side-effect of being named Snow. Others asserted it was because she was born on December.

They couldn't have been farther from the truth. The reason could be summed up to one person: her father, _Stanley Silverstone._

All Snow's life, Stanley Silverstone was categorized as an absentee father; a fact she couldn't resent him for. Even when she watched the dynamics between her friends and their parents or overheard the latter murmuring amongst each other of how _wrong_ and _disappointing_ her father's absenteeism was when they wrongly believed they were out of hearing range, Snow _still_ adored him to pieces. Snow's recollection of her first three years of life were tremendously vague, her memory consisting of blurred faces, faraway voices and transient incidents, and despite the momentous passing of Selene Silverstone that left an indelible mark on her daughter and on Mystic Falls, Snow – if she thought hard enough, or flickered through the scant albums she managed to pilfer from storage before Lucille padlocked it – could vaguely recall golden-blonde locks, almond-shaped violet eyes with an incandescent twinkle, and a lovely soprano voice.

Selene's unexpected death marked Stanley's return, him playing a larger role in his daughter's life than a recurring visitor once she became short one parent. Nevertheless, Stanley proceeded to be considered an absentee father, which was the sole reason he married Lucille and allowed her and her spawns' toxic energy into their house. For two years, before Lucille entered their lives, whenever Stanley Silverstone needed to leave town for long periods of time, he would leave his precious daughter in the trusted care of the Gilbert's, the Forbes' or the Lockwood's.

Despite everything, one memory clung to Snow – a cherished tradition that resurfaced whenever Snow felt blue or hopeless, or when she sat sequestered in her room, depressed and in tears, licking her wounds from the constant abuse Lucille and the twins emotionally, psychologically and physically inflicted on her. Every year, _without fail_, the second the clock struck midnight, signaling Snow's birthday, Stanley would walk through the front door, all teeth and jollity, his drawn and weary visage genuinely happy at the sight of his little girl waiting for him by the unlit fireplace. Bundled up in their winter attire, father and daughter would drive through Mystic Falls, irregardless of the late hour and the cold weather; while Stanley expertly drove through town, Snow exuberantly jumped in the passenger seat, her stunning eyes never leaving her father's face, chattering a mile a minute about _everything _that occurred in his absence. Nothing she imparted was considered nonsense or unimportant; Stanley was attentive and kind and genuinely interested – and, despite the category he fell under, nobody could contest the profound love and adoration Stanley Silverstone held for his only daughter.

Afterward, they would bundle up in thick sweaters by the roaring fireplace, Snow nestled in her father's strong, burly arms, a mug of hot chocolate cradled between their palms as a thick and wooly comforter enveloped their forms. The fireplace acting as their personal sun for the evening to combat the effects of the cold drive cast dancing shadows around them. The flames curled and swayed, dancing energetically and emitting the most soothing crackling sounds in the Manor's quietude as they burned the dry wood – the best place to receive warmth on a wintry night as decreed by Stanley, thus initiating a yearly tradition. And as the hours passed by, father and daughter would take turns to add more wood and poke it with the fire iron, Snow's joy radiating simultaneously with the fire's merry crackling as they licked at the new logs.

Alas, all good things eventually come to an end.

Closing the front door behind her, Snow tightened her secondhand coat around her willowy form and burrowed her hands deeper into its pockets, lest they freeze. Snow opted walking to school. Her friends didn't push the subject; knowing the significance of the day, the fifteen minute trek would act as a temporary palliative to the gaping hole that's become a constant feature in Snow's anatomy.

No sooner had she crossed the driveway, did a familiar voice call out from behind – a déjà vu-like sensation hitting her, the only difference being the person's identity and method of commute.

"Snow Silverstone. Hi."

Snow pivoted around, her head cocked to the side in confusion. Regardless of the cold weather, she felt her cheeks heat up with a subtle rosy flush upon finding herself on the receiving end of Logan Fell's roguish smile, his pearly whites on full display. He maintained her leisure pace, hands similarly tucked in the pockets of his black Burberry trench coat. Flushed with shame at the contrast between them – her, a trashy dressed pauper, and him, part of the rich, famous and elite, with his casual, confident gait and effortlessly handsome looks – Snow lowered her gaze, "Hello, Mr. Fell."

A small crease materialized between his honey-blonde brows. "Just Logan, kid," he winked.

Her gaze averted, Snow missed Logan's intent scrutiny of her person, his hazel orbs darkening in rage at her piss-poor and downtrodden condition – he didn't need the new and improved vision bestowed on by vampirism to recognize the plethora of signs of her mistreatment. Unseen, his hands balled into bone-white fists in his pockets, self-hatred consuming him for abandoning her, but most of all, fierce loathing bubbled inside him, trained at Lucille Styne. He wouldn't rest, not until he ensured Lucille pay for _every_ bit of suffering she mercilessly doled out to Snow – and nobody knows revenge more than a Fell; in fact, the Fell Family personified the popular expression "_revenge is a dish best served cold._" There _was_ a reason _why_ the vampires were entombed and purported dead in _Fell's_ Church, after all.

Oh, Lucille shall _rue_ the day she mistreated and abused his goddaughter.

"Look, Honey, there's something important I need to tell you," quelling his rage and batting away the many scenarios of revenge he spontaneously created, Logan offered the teenager his trademark mischievous grin, hoping to alleviate her nerves.

Startled, Snow forgot her embarrassment to meet his kind eyes, nervously tucking an errant strand behind her ear, "O-Okay, what, what is it?"

"I'm gonna be blunt and put it out in the open: I'm a vampire," Logan divulged matter-of-factly, intently examining her reaction. Other than the marginal widening of her eyes, Snow didn't flinch, recoil away from him, or look at him any differently. And _seriously_, what's _with_ this generation and their tolerance of vampires. "I don't want you to be scared of me. The truth is I'm staying in Mystic Falls to protect you."

Bemused eyes blinked at him. Logan Fell never struck her as someone concerned about her safety. "Protect, protect me? Why would you even care about me?" Snow whispered sadly, wide violet eyes holding his gaze.

"You remember me telling you I knew your father?" Logan gently broke into speech. At Snow's nod, he revealed, "What I neglected to mention growing up, I was best friends with your mother. In fact, she made me your godfather."

"_Oh_!" realization dawned on just as they stopped short in front of Mystic Falls High's parking lot. "Uncle Richard always mentioned something about a 'weasel' never being around. Was-" belatedly recognizing her unconscious slip of the tongue, she blushed profusely, an apology in her eyes.

More amused than offended, Logan threw his head back and barked out a laugh, eyes shining, "Yeah, I'm that weasel he kept talking about. I don't blame him. I was stupid and irresponsible and very selfish during my youth." He sobered all of a sudden and tentatively placed his hands on her shoulder, steering her until she was facing him, "I'm sorry for not looking out for you. There's absolutely no excuse. All I can do is promise to always be here for you from today onward. I promised Stanley and Selene I'd take care of you and regardless of what I've become I want you to come to me with _anything_. _Anything_, big, small, it doesn't matter, Snow. Any problems you have, or if you just want to talk or even a place to crash, you come to me. I'm your godfather and another uncle to you. And-" he looked slightly pained, the desperation and yearning in her beautiful violet eyes – in _Selene's _eyes – like a knife to the gut, "-if you want, I can tell you stories about your Mom. Got it, kiddo?"

"_Thank you so much_, Mr.-" Mouth clamped shut, Snow's head did a little shake and she beamed at him, her voice lacking any reserves, "_Uncle Logan_. So, does this mean, can I, can I see you after school?"

Grinning from ear to ear, Logan recited his new address and pulled her into an embrace, the affection starved girl not hesitating to wrap her arms around him and squeezing, almost as though she were reassuring herself that he was actually there and that their entire interaction wasn't a figment of her imagination. Hazel orbs then fondly watched his goddaughter run to Elena Gilbert and Bonnie Bennett, a new pep in her step.

"I believe you."

Having sensed eyes fixated on him the moment he and Snow entered the boundaries of the school and then heard the subtle approach of a vampire once the teenager parted from him, Logan remained rooted in place, confident that no harm would come to him, especially not in a crowded area. Smirking, hands interlaced behind his back, Logan kept his eyes ahead, and from his peripheral, Stefan stepped beside him. "Good, 'cause I meant what I said before, Stefan. You and your brother can do whatever the Hell you want for all I care. But if Snow gets hurt, or either one of you endangers her life, there _will_ be _Hell_ to pay. While you _might _be stronger than me, I've got a bunch of powerful witches on my side," Logan's threat was a long time coming; he's been itching to deliver it from the moment he became aware of his goddaughter's entanglement with the Salvatore brothers.

Sincere and solemn, Stefan instantly moved to placate the reporter, "The last thing I want to do is hurt anyone." He then swallowed, taking time to formulate a conjecture he made after much deliberation, "Damon might be volatile and hotheaded. And impulsive…But he genuinely cares about Snow."

A brusque dip of the head met the conjecture, "For your brother's sake, you better hope so." After a short spell of companionable silence, Logan stated, "She doesn't have a scent."

* * *

Half-skipping, half-running to her friends, Snow called out, "Elena, Bonnie!" Stopping short, they beamed at the soft-spoken girl, inwardly surprised by her shockingly good mood. Usually, on this day – _weekend, really_ – Snow went through depression, her despondency lasting until her birthday's conclusion. Every year, on the third of December, Snow's birthday, they'd spend the day distracting her from the tradition she had with her late father; Miranda Gilbert would bake a homemade cake and they'd all gather at the Gilbert's or the Lockwood's for a dinner celebration, but as respect to Snow's feelings, they never went overboard.

Unaware of her friends' surprise, Snow linked arms with the witch, "Bonnie, how are you feeling about everything?"

An uncertain smile spread on Bonnie's face and she squeezed the timid girl's arm, "Honestly, I'm freaked out. Damon attacked me. I could be dead right now. But I'm also grateful." Snow nodded in agreement as Bonnie directed her next words to Elena, "To Stefan. He saved my life and… have you seen him?"

Stopping by their lockers and disregarding the milling students in the hallway, Elena sighed, unwinding her scarf from around her neck and tossing it inside. She turned to face her friends, a pout on her face, "Not since he told me he was leaving. For all I know, he's already gone."

"Na-_uh_! No way, Lena," Snow vigorously shook her head. "Stefan wouldn't leave, not before saying goodbye, at least. Last time he pulled the disappearing act, not only was he grieving, but he planned on returning," Snow sounded confident. Obviously with Snow, Bonnie nodded, "Exactly. Don't worry, Elena. He'll come around."

Releasing another sad sigh, Elena shrugged and grabbed her books with unnecessary force, "He thinks he's protecting me. Clean break and all that."

"So what are you gonna do?" Bonnie asked.

Exasperated, Elena slammed shut her locker door and mixed the padlock combination, "What am I _supposed to do_? I've already begged him not to go. If I ask again, I'm being selfish. It is what it is."

"Maybe it's for the best," Bonnie blurted out. "I mean, what kind of future could you have had with him if he stayed."

Her forehead furrowed, Snow hated to admit, but Bonnie _did_ make a decent point, her statement a legitimate point for concern. Unless Elena planned on becoming a vampire at some point in her life, their relationship won't be going anywhere. Unless vampires are capable of procreating or Elena's perfectly fine with being the elderly woman dating, or married to, an eternal stud stuck at seventeen. Nevertheless, the romantic in Snow couldn't help but protest and she lightly swatted Bonnie on arm, "_Hey_. You're forgetting that love prevails _all_."

Bonnie groaned, "I forgot we had a sappy romantic among us."

Scowling, Snow responded by sticking her tongue out stuck her tongue out. Their conversation reached an abrupt halt when, all of a sudden, a banner emblazoned with 'The Promise of your Future' in large font dropped directly in front of the three teens. Eyebrow arched at the unlikely coincidence, Elena, thinking their witch friend utilized her powers of telekinesis to drive her point home, stuttered, "Did-, did you just…?"

Head shaking wildly, Bonnie quickly vocalized a rebuttal, "No, I swear." Changing the subject, Bonnie awkwardly addressed Snow, whose lips were parted in shock, "By the way, Snow. For your birthday tomorrow, Caroline's on cake duty."

Blinking away the moisture from her eyes, Snow pressed her lips together and sharply inclined her head. Similarly, Elena struggled to keep her tears at bay. Baking Snow's birthday cake used to be Miranda's duty, but this year, she was no longer with them—

"I'm going to class," Snow and Elena unconsciously intoned, the latter grumpily smacking the banner out of her face before they stormed off to history with Mr. Saltzman, leaving a slightly guilty Bonnie to run after them.

* * *

Seeing the structure looming closer, an ecstatic Snow quickly jogged down the path. Upon the cessation of classes, Snow made the decision to visit the graves of her parents, Uncle Grayson, and Aunt Miranda at the cemetery, searching for closure. Logan's disclosure and his presence ignited something in Snow and determination resonated through her being.

She didn't want to be the sad girl anymore. She wanted to enjoy life and appreciate the _fact_ that she's alive. To celebrate the day she had been brought into the world without reservations, to remember her parents and not enter a state of depression. Enter Logan Fell – with him a constant figure in her life and a bridge to her dead mother, life was starting to look up. Logan, no! _Uncle_ Logan, her _godfather!_, promised to take care of her and protect her… he was rich and famous, and a prominent figure in Mystic Falls, which meant Lucille couldn't deliberately anger him or go against his wishes. Neither could she forbid her from seeing him, not only was it _legally_ impossible, but social suicide.

Violet eyes brightened at the sight of Wickery Bridge, glad the pang of sadness upon seeing the structure had numbed. Checking left and right for incoming cars, Snow put a foot forward when _suddenly_, something large collided into her back and dragged her away from public view. The heavy weight proved too much for her willowy form and she sagged despite her valiant attempt to fend off her attacker. Too fixated was Snow on the stranger that had a tight grip on her from behind, it took her a while to realize a hand twist around her form and make a jabbing motion toward her stomach. The sharp, agonizing pain that blossomed in her abdomen elicited a shrill cry of pain, its crescendo muffled by a larger, gloved hand. Looking down, tears streamed down her face, tracing her cheekbones and coursing down her chin, horrified by the blade embedded in her stomach, its entire spine disappearing inside her, the handle protruding.

As the blade twisted deeper, eliciting immeasurable pain from her, Snow bit down hard on her attacker's hand; unfortunately, the glove's thick fabric was impenetrable and her efforts culminated in a harsh blow across her face. As the blade persistently dug deeper into abdomen, Snow feared it would rip through her spinal cord and subsequently, her back. She screamed and thrashed and attempted a few kicks, to no avail.

Finally, the blade emerged from her abdomen, but by then, the fight had left her.

Drifting in and out of consciousness, the next thing Snow knew, her form was hurled over Wickery Bridge. Plunging headfirst into the murky water may have been a blessing to Snow Silverstone. Unfortunately, her head smashed against the rocky slope, adding more cuts and bruises to her already battered body, and she slumped face first into the ground, the bottom half of her form soaking in the water.

Snow Silverstone lost consciousness, drowning in a puddle of her blood.

* * *

The split-second the blade plunged into Snow's abdomen, an alarm got triggered.

A few miles away, a house succumbed to the deafening wails of a caterwauling alarm, notifying its inhabitant of a great tragedy.

An ominous sensation coursing through her veins, she rushed into the living room and grabbed the handset of her landline, her nimble fingers, despite the trembling hand it belonged to, quickly dialing a number. Waiting for the person on the other end to pick up, she tapped her foot impatiently when—

"_Hello_?"

Inhaling sharply, she frantically stated, "_It has happened_."

"_**What**_ _has_?" a lilt of confusion laced the woman's voice.

Mahogany orbs full of sorrow, she clutched her chest and choked out, "_The alarm went off_."

* * *

His gait swift and visage troubled, Logan strode into Mystic Falls High which was currently holding Career Night. Cloaking his franticness behind an impassive mask, he stalked the hallways, scoping the stands and the throng of students, and when he couldn't locate his target, worried frown lines appeared on his forehead. Emitting a frustrated noise, he redialed Snow's cellphone for probably the hundredth time since school let out.

He waited for her after school, but she never came. Once the hour mark came and went, thinking Snow, thanks to her kind nature, felt she might be intruding on his hospitality and allowed her shyness to consume her, he went to the Grill to confront her, only for Roy Dawson to inform him she had missed her shift.

This left him with only one option: Career Night.

For once, Logan didn't care that Jenna was blatantly avoiding him, disregarding the numerous dirty glares she sent his way. His only concern was his goddaughter and her current whereabouts. Approaching aunt and niece, both of whom were giggling over a pamphlet, the moment his shadow cast over them, Jenna folded her arms together and indignantly growled, "What do you want?"

"Jenna, if the circumstances were different, I'd go down on my knees and beg for forgiveness. Regrettably, I've a more important matter to deal with." Not that he did anything. It wasn't his fault he died, and he sure as Hell didn't send her an email – that was on Liz. Barely sparing Jenna's surprised face a second glance, Logan transferred his attention to her bewildered niece, the intensity of his hazel eyes making her squirm, "Elena, when was the last time you saw Snow?"

"Uh, right after school ended, why?" nervous, Elena gulped, a pit forming in her stomach at the seriousness of the situation. Elena had never seen Logan Fell, the proud bachelor, intrepid reporter, charming seducer and all around bad boy of Mystic Falls who rarely took anything seriously, according to Jenna, look so severe and solemn.

Logan merely responded with an incomplete shake of the head as his gaze landed on Stefan. Leaving the speechless duo, Logan quickly made his way over and dragged the Salvatore brother aside. He struggled to regain his composure, especially with Richard Lockwood and Sheriff Forbes' following stares, gauging on whether or not he was a worthy guardian to Snow. "Snow's missing," he hissed.

Forest green orbs widened, "_What_!?"

Face grim, he kept his eyes peeled on his surroundings in case the raven-haired beauty made an appearance, hopeful he was simply overreacting and that Snow had chosen to sequester herself in her room. "She was supposed to meet me at my place after school but she never showed. She hasn't picked up _any _of my calls and when I stopped by the Grill, the manager said she missed her shift. He _also_ said it was troubling because Snow _never_ skips, and if she did, she'd call beforehand to apologize," throughout his hurried speech, hazel orbs scoured every single individual that crossed his line of vision, and, upon hearing approaching footsteps, his unnerving stare promptly fell on Elena.

She faltered, uncomfortable with his piercing scrutiny. However, once Stefan confided in her their current dilemma, she joined Stefan's frantic endeavors and called around, asking for Snow, going through her contact list at an alarming pace and immediately alerting Caroline and Bonnie. Leaving them to it, Logan apprised Sheriff Forbes and Mayor Lockwood of the situation, both of whom instantly swallowed down the impressive tongue-lashing they had planned on giving him about taking responsibility.

Almost immediately, Liz dispatched her deputies to begin the search for Snow Silverstone. After all, Mystic Falls was known for housing a population of vampires in 1864, and therefore, the twenty-four hour rule was nonexistent when it came to reports about missing persons.

* * *

A lot can change in one night.

One wrong turn can lead to a series of unfortunate events. Executing the wrong decision could lead to disastrous results.

And in Mystic Falls, everything that could go wrong _did_ go wrong, all in the span of _one night_.

Worried sick for her best friend, Elena followed Stefan's advice and returned to the Boarding House with him. In part, it was because neither one of them wanted to be alone; the other reason, they hoped Damon would be there, probably going through a bottle of bourbon, licking his wounds, where they would inform him of the situation and have him keep an eye out for her.

Entering the kitchen to make coffee, Stefan left Elena's side for a minute. Just _one minute_. That minute was all it took for her to discover the tintype photograph of Katherine he kept in his room, enlightening the horrified brunette of her uncanny resemblance to Stefan's vampire ex-girlfriend.

Paralyzed with fear over her friend's fate, heartbroken over the assumption she made, that she was merely a substitute for Katherine, and confused over the freaky resemblance they shared, Elena, unmindful of the consequences and the foolishness of her action, ripped out the vervain-infused necklace from around her neck, placed it atop the picture and left the safety of the Boarding House.

Tears blurring her vision, Elena sped through the deserted roads of Mystic Falls, one hand on the steering wheel and the other repeatedly punching in Snow's cellphone number. Too distressed and out of her mind with worry, fear, confusion, Elena didn't recognize a figure standing in the middle of the road and blocking her path until it was too late. Emitting a shriek, the brunette swerved to avoid him. Her attempt was futile; hitting the figure, the car flipped into the air several times before it crashed on the tarmac, only becoming stationary once it was upside down.

Slowly, the figure's limbs began to move until they stood upright. Elena, her wide chocolate orbs on the approaching hooded figure, let out a shrilly scream as she struggled to eject her seatbelt. _Of course it was stuck_! Realizing it was a vampire, and that her chances of escaping alive were slim to none, her tears renewed with a vengeance. The sound of boots impacting against the gravelly tarmac stopped right outside her window and she screamed. Suddenly, the man disappeared, replaced by Damon Salvatore.

Sighing, Damon ripped apart the seatbelt with his bare hands and carried her unconscious form to his car. Dumping her inside, he shrugged and proceeded to drive out of Mystic Falls. The added baggage – _Elena_ – wasn't about to put a dent in the plan he formulated; he had an appointment in Georgia.

If Elena were awake, Damon would've been made aware of the missing girl, and as a result, would have used his amplified vision to locate Snow. While Snow's blood didn't have a scent, then maybe_, just maybe_, the elder Salvatore, knowing she was missing in the first place, would have taken note of the immobile form drenched in a puddle of blood a few feet below him as his car sped over Wickery Bridge.

While the citizens of Mystic Falls frantically searched for their golden girl, around a thousand miles away, a woman, full of trepidation, dialed a number, one she had been entrusted with and ordered to use _solely _in the case of emergencies concerning one specific person.

The line rang twice before a deep, smooth yet gruff voice picked up, sounding like he had been sleeping and promptly awoken by the call. "'_Lo_?" he grunted.

"_It's me_," she stated. Not giving him the cantankerous man a chance to speak, she said, "_I know it's late, but you need to get to Mystic Falls, __**now**__._"

Any and all traces of sleep vanished at her ominous declaration. Jolting into a sitting position, he quickly reached out for his steel-toe boots and blindly shoved them on. Having slept in his clothes, he crossed the room in two large strides, pulled on his jacket and draped his duffle-bag over his shoulder, car keys in hand. It barely took a minute for him to get ready for the ensuing car ride and, slamming the driver door shut, he shouted into the cellphone secured between his ear and shoulder, "_What happened?!_"

There was only one reason he would make the trip down to Mystic Falls, only _one_. Starting the car, he simultaneously felt his blood run cold and a chill down his spine, both sensations that wracked his body having nothing to do with the biting cold of winter.

"_It's bad. All I know, the Vigilant Spell is blaring crazy mad. You __**need**__ to get down there immediately. I-I don't think she has much time. A fellow witch cast the spell that'd alert us if she's in danger, and late afternoon, it did. From what she's told me, you're her only hope._"

Dropping the phone in his lap, he relentlessly punched the leather wheel with one large fist, its veins bulging. Exhaling harshly through his nose, he forcefully grabbed his discarded phone and barked into it, his words interspersed with menacing growls, "_You better hope she survives, Sophie! Otherwise it's your coven's asses on the line_." Furious, he hung up on her.

Stepping on the engine, the man proceeded to drive over the required speed limit. Every minute was precious and he couldn't waste the limited time he had… He needed to get to Mystic Falls before Snow died.

* * *

"_**Sam! Dad's tellin' us to go somewhere, we're goin'.**_**" – **_**Dean Winchester**_

"_**I know you. You're always one step from a "maybe", a tiny nudge to "yes".**_**" **_**– **__**Logan Fell**_

"_**So, I was thinking, since I know my way around a kitchen better than you, and no way are we letting Snow bake her own cake… the theme's always been homemade. We can't let Mrs. Lockwood order a cake. I'll do Snow's birthday cake.**_**" – **_**Caroline Forbes (to Elena and Bonnie)**_

"_**I live in fear. It consumes me. In the early evening when I see the sun begin to fade, the fear comes, because I know that the night brings death.**_**" – **_**Jeremy Gilbert (reading Johnathan Gilbert's Journal)**_

"_**She needs someone nice like him, as opposed to a homicidal vampire like Damon.**_**" **_**– **__**Bonnie Bennett**_

_**Richard Lockwood:**_** "**_**Dear, don't overdo it. You know how Snow is. Just keep it small and simple.**_**" **_**Carol Lockwood:**_** "**_**But she's turning 17, Richard! ...Fine, fine. But I'm doubling her presents.**_**"**

"_**Can't help but feel cheated, Soph. All this time, all those training sessions and aneurysms you put me through to increase my immunity and achieve rock-hard self-control… Snow has no scent. At all! Nothing, nada!**_**" **_**– **__**Logan Fell**_

"_**For right now, there is nowhere safer than a crowded public place, and for once, Mayor, we actually know where our kids are.**_**" **_**– **__**Sheriff Forbes**_

"_**Look, Snow didn't show up for her shift. It's not like her. Skipping work and not bothering to let me know, to Snow Silverstone, that's the absolute sin.**_**" **_**– **__**Roy Dawson**_

"_**You know I wanted to be a doctor before everything happened, but, uh, then I couldn't, 'cause…**_**" **_**– **__**Stefan Salvatore**_

"_**I don't wanna talk about my future, Stefan. Because everything you're saying is making it perfectly clear that you're not gonna be in it.**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert**_

"_**The scum Fell has landed.**_**" **_**– **__**Jenna Sommers**_

"_**I told you, it's not ESP! I just have strange vibes sometimes. Weird dreams.**_**" **_**– **__**Sam Winchester**_

"_**Dad could be in trouble, we should be looking for him. We deserve some answers, Dean. I mean, this is our family we're talking about.**_**" **_**– **__**Sam Winchester**_

"_**Career night is the new bowling.**_**" **_**– **__**Jenna Sommers**_

"_**You don't fight in there like pansies. You take it outside, fight your battles like men, and move on. Best lesson my Dad taught me. So let's settle it. Fight.**_**" **_**– **__**Richard Lockwood**_

"_**You look like a full grown alpha male douchebag.**_**" **_**– **__**Alaric Saltzman**_

"_**Look, I like Caroline. She's got this thing…this way about her…and I like her ok? And I'm not gonna defend it or apologize about.**_**" **_**– **__**Matt Donovan**_

"_**Snow, please, please pick up! Something, something happened with Stefan and… I need you. I need to talk to you. I need my best friend. Please, pick up.**_**" – **_**Elena Gilbert**_

"_**I want every single corner of this town searched. Bring in hounds, I don't care! I want Snow Silverstone found, and I want her found now!**_**" **_**– **__**Richard Lockwood**_

"_**I look like her…**_**" – **_**Elena Gilbert**_

"_**My my… Mystic Falls. What a sinister sounding town. What are you doing there…**_**" **_**– **__**Meg**_

* * *

**A/N:**** The plot begins to thicken in this chapter. Bear with me, I know you are all curious as to who all the anonymous people are, but don't worry, you will find out soon. I gotta add some suspense ;)**

**(1) Did you like how I changed Logan's role? I enjoyed writing his interaction with Stefan and Damon and I hated the fact that they killed him in the show. I root for the underdog most times, LOL! Also, if you refer to the 'CAST', you'd see I changed the actor. Logan Fell's face-claim is Wilson Bethel. To those who watched and are huge fans of 'Hart of Dixie', and **_**lurveee**_** Wade Kinsella, like I do! Then, enjoy the sexiness of Logan. You'd be able to imagine the charm and bad-boy vibe he radiates clearly. Damon Salvatore - you have met your match in Logan!**

**(2) Also, if it isn't clear, Snow's birthday is December 3****rd****. This episode takes place December 2****nd**** and the next day is the 3****rd****. Just to clear up any confusion. I hope you were intrigued by the additional background I provided regarding Snow and her father, Stanley.**

**(3) Some might be confused about the interchanging surnames I give Lucille. Especially if any of you are actually reading the quotes I insert at the end of every chapter. It will be explained as the story continues. I won't ruin this brilliant piece of plot-twist *wink, wink* I just wanted to let you know it wasn't a typo.**

**(4) On another note, continuing the timeline of SPN Universe: this chapter coincides with Asylum. However, since Asylum occurred in a span of at least a week, next chapter will occur during Asylum as well. Cheers!**

**R&R.**


	12. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:**** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters, ideas and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

_**CHAPTER 11:**_

**DEATH'S DOOR**

* * *

**Legacy (**_**noun**_**): something that someone has achieved that continues to exist after they die**

"_**Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome.**_**"**

"_**Carve your name on hearts, not tombstones. A legacy is etched into the minds of others and the stories they share about you.**_**"**

"_**I have been abandoned by both life and death: neither would take me.**_**"**

"_**I'm only human, and I bleed when I fall down. I'm only human, and I crash and I break down.**_**"**

* * *

When Stefan stepped into his room and found it empty, he thought nothing of it, wrongfully assuming Elena was simply exploring the rest of the Boarding House. Coffee mugs in hand, he turned to leave in search for the brunette when a familiar glint caught his peripheral, introducing a knot in the pit of his stomach. Ditching the drinks, he flashed to the bedroom table, horror filling his eyes little by little at, not only the vervain-infused necklace he had given Elena as a form of protection, but the tintype photograph he kept of Katherine. Making matters worse, the fact that the necklace _deliberately_ sat on the photograph transmitted Elena's message loud and clear – discovering she's a carbon copy of his manipulative ex-vampire-girlfriend prompted the belief that she's merely a substitute for Katherine, hence eliciting feelings of betrayal and hurt.

He never wanted Elena to find out this way…

Furious at himself for being so careless, for letting Elena into his room without ensuring the photograph was well-hidden, Stefan clenched his hand into a ball and threw his fist forward, the crack of his knuckles breaking echoing in the room. The subsequent lance of pain failed to calm him, the urge to keep on punching the wall until it collapsed taking over. Shaking his head, Stefan splayed the cracked hand and flexed it, letting the bones reset themselves while he grabbed his phone with the other hand, punching in Elena's number in the blink of an eye.

It went straight to voicemail.

An amalgamation of frustrated exasperation grabbed ahold of him and he expelled a sigh, pressing a closed fist to his forehead, a crowd of furrows decorating it. Ten seconds passed before he redialed, this time choosing to leave a message on her voicemail, "Elena. It's Stefan. I know that this picture must have confused you. But I can explain. I _need_ to explain. So, please, when you get this, call me."

No sooner had he sent it, did his phone vibrate with a text message from Logan, inquiring after Snow. All frustration melted away to be replaced by intense guilt. Here he stood, concerned about Elena's feelings and on whether or not the disclosure created an expiry date for their relationship, and all the while, Snow's been missing, not a hide or hair detected since late afternoon. He may not have known Snow for very long, but one thing he _did_ know, she would never ignore anyone's calls; not wanting to be the source of anyone's worry, Snow always made it a point to impart her whereabouts.

…_Until now._

Quickly putting on a shirt, Stefan grabbed the jacket he absentmindedly left draped over the crest rail of a chair and rushed out of the Boarding House, fully intending on aiding in the search party for Snow. The addition of another vampire would make a hell of a difference as missing people in Mystic Falls didn't bode well, especially with, according to Logan, three new vampires in town.

On the other side of town, a disquieted Logan, who prided himself on his good looks, felt like pulling his hair out. They were _nowhere close_ to finding his goddaughter. After apprising Liz and Richard of the situation, he wasted no time in leaving the school and searching the streets, the alleyways, the neighborhoods, and throughout his frenetic pursuit of Snow, he sought help from his witch contacts. A fat lot of good it did him… all Sophie said, was to sit tight and be patient and that _help_ was on its way. What help? She didn't say. Be patient for _what exactly_? No elaboration whatsoever. If he were still human, Logan's blood pressure would've hit the roof at the witch's irritating response. '_Witches_,' he scoffed inwardly, '_cryptic and vague the whole lot of 'em!'_

Initially, upon his discovery that Snow's blood lacked a scent, while concerned about the reason as it wasn't a normal trait for a human to have, Logan eventually felt relief, his emotion shared by Stefan, both of them reassured that the anomaly would act as an advantage for the soft-spoken girl as no vampire on a bloodlust frenzy would be alerted to her presence or feel the urge to feed on her. Currently, however, it proved extremely disadvantageous, for if Snow possessed some sort of distinctive scent, Logan or Stefan could've easily located her, rendering the assembly of a search-party useless.

Agitated, he walked the deck of Wickery Bridge, not stopping in his tracks until he stood on its center. Phone out, he called Stefan for an update, then Liz, and lastly Richard. _Nothing_. Huffing out a sharp breath, Logan gripped the handrail in a vice grip, hazel orbs intent on the murky depths of the river below. The beautiful but deadly body of water was responsible for the deaths of Grayson and Miranda Gilbert, and for a moment… he couldn't help but think, if Miranda were here, if she were alive, if Death hadn't taken her early, would Snow be missing? After all is said and done, Miranda was the better godparent.

Dispelling the unnecessary contemplations, Logan snapped back to the present; Snow couldn't afford a brief spell of inattention. Refocusing on his phone, Logan dialed Snow _again_.

The distinction between his previous attempts and the current one was instantaneous. Instead of the drone ringing on the other end the _only _sound to attack his acute hearing, his auditory faculty was assaulted with a melodious ringtone, one that commenced simultaneously with the first ring in his ear. His heart performed a tiny leap as hope resonated, and with his enhanced eyesight, frantically scanned the vicinity. However, hope dimmed and his heart stood still once they connected with an immobile form laying face-first on the ground by the edge of the river bank.

Inhaling deeply, no sense of smell infiltrated his olfactory receptors.

Logan flashed over to the person's side, his blood running cold when he distinguished Snow amid a pool of blood. He staggered backward, for an earth-shattering second, stumped by all the blood. But that second was all it took for Logan to regain his bearings and he immediately crouched by her side. Unconscious and completely drenched in crimson, Snow's face no longer held a pristine ivory complexion, it was a shade of pale from blood loss and marred with congealed blood and a dark contusion on one side of her face that was beginning to swell.

"Snow, _Snow_! Oh, _God_, stay with me honey, stay with me, Snow!"

Feeling around for a pulse, hazel orbs burned with hellfire, darkening in unrestrained rage at the source of all the blood, the piercing, deep wound in her abdomen painting a pretty gruesome picture. Pushing back the murderous rage, he proceeded with his inspection, relieved at finding a faint fluttering in her neck. He promptly collected her in his arms, ensuring the jostling was to a minimum and called the hospital, ordering they have a gurney ready and for their best surgeon on standby. He then informed Liz to call of the search who, thankfully was with Richard and therefore, saved him a phone call – _two birds one stone_.

Knowing that, in comparison, vampire speed surpassed cars, even _if_ all the lights happened to be green, Logan gathered Snow in his arms and covered the distance in record time, his enhanced agility allowing him to cover even more distance.

Arriving, covered in blood, he was immediately swarmed by medical personnel and Snow was quickly but gently deposited on the gurney. Devastated and close to tears, Logan was left to watch Snow get rolled into emergency surgery, the commotion in the background nothing but white noise to him. Going with the motions, Logan managed to make it to the waiting room, pick a seat and call Stefan, his voice barely audible and lacking any emotion.

"_Christ_! Please don't tell me that's all Snow's blood!" a sob-like shriek resonated throughout the drearily dull room.

Mechanically, Logan raised his gaze from the spotless tiles to see Richard and Carol. Blinking, Logan realized Stefan sat beside him and, apparently, had been for a while. Meeting Carol's red-rimmed eyes, her words snapping him from the daze he'd been under since Snow was wheeled away for surgery, Logan scrutinized his appearance, registering the ghastly sight he must make – hands caked in red, bloodstained clothes, hair in disarray, and a mixture of tears and blood smearing his face. Face forming a grimace, now fully aware of his goddaughter's body fluid coating him, he was itching to scrub every bit off him.

Taking note of his woebegone demeanor, Richard, for the first time since Logan pranced back into town on September, didn't regard him with anger, or sneer at him. The fact that it was _Logan_ who found his niece – _his sweet girl_ – erased any and all lingering disappointment. He did what everyone, what Stanley and Selene wanted, he stepped up _big time_. Approaching his hunched form and disregarding the blood, Richard placed a comforting hand on Logan's shoulder.

Sheriff Forbes joined them, a grimace on her face and tears shining in her eyes. Sensing the Sheriff needed some privacy to speak with the council members, Stefan excused himself to get coffee from the nearby vending machine and employed his enhanced hearing to eavesdrop.

"This wasn't a vampire attack, Logan. It was premeditated murder," Liz disclosed sadly, incapable of remaining objective, her professional front shattering the more they remained in the dark regarding Snow's fate. Extremely shaken up, it wasn't just her close relation to Snow Silverstone, who she considered a second daughter, but that the last time Mystic Falls dealt with a murderer, it was 1912, and _usually_, vampires were responsible for the occurrence of murders.

A vicious growl rumbled in Logan's throat, one that possessed the quality of a deadly predator. "I _know_, Liz. I'm the one who found her, _remember_! I saw the stab wound," he spat, fists clenching and unclenching. "It was vicious and deep. The perpetrator then tossed her off the bridge so that nobody could stumble across her body. The whole affair was professionally executed!"

Jaw tense, Liz quickly added, "It could be a random attack. Snow could've been in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Carol's hand flew forward to twist the sleeve of her husband's blazer in her bony grip. The color drained from Richard's face and his voice was taut with apoplectic anger, "Are you saying this is the work of a _hitman_?"

"I said no such thing. I'm just spitballing here and calling it like I see it," Logan retorted, both hands raised in a placating gesture. The last thing the Mayor needed on top of vampires returning to Mystic Falls, was some faceless, nameless hitman on the loose. Lacking grace, Liz slumped into the seat beside Logan, a hand carding through her short hair, "Who would want to kill a _sweet_ _girl_ like Snow? She doesn't have _any_ enemies and everyone loves her _fiercely_…"

"Except that _horrendous bitch_ Stanley married," Carol acerbically bit out, her voice cutting and tongue dripping with acid. Liz nodded in complete agreement, a furrow between her brows. "_God_!" the usually prim and proper woman shook her head in disbelief, her eyes heavenward. "I don't mean to speak ill of the dead, but… To this day, I _still_ have trouble wondering what _the Hell _was going through his head when he looked at Lucille and decided she was worthy of being a Silverstone. I can't stand that _hag_."

Struggling to maintain his composure, Stefan, still subtly eavesdropping on the 'adults', bit his lower lip to prevent laughter. Never had he seen Carol Lockwood portray such raw emotion and utilize language _'improper for a lady of her standing'_. However, his attention was promptly captured by the subtle exchange between Logan and the Mayor – at Carol's vicious harangue, the aforementioned duo traded a meaningful look…

Logan scowled and changed the subject, "We need to check the crime scene, have your deputies tape it the river bank off, Liz. Hopefully, the _son of a bitch_ left a clue behind." Nodding, Liz smiled softly at Stefan, who decided it was safe to interrupt, balancing four paper cups of coffee.

"Thank you, Stefan." Taking a sip, Liz winced at the bland taste of hospital coffee, but nevertheless the four 'adults' continued to drink from their respective cup, in desperate need of the pick-me-up as it looked like it was going to be a _very long _night. "By any chance do you know where Damon is?" the Sheriff suddenly inquired.

The two vampires briefly exchanged eye contact, a hundred questions burning in Logan's. Stefan shook his head, lips forming a stern line at the thought of his volatile brother and his _suspiciously strange_ absence. "He took off this morning, said something about business out of town," he lied convincingly.

Sighing, Carol and Liz phoned their respective child to inform them of Snow's situation while Stefan attempted to get in touch with both, Damon and Elena. All the while, Logan and Richard sat in complete silence, waiting on bated breath for the surgeon performing the operation on Snow to update them on her condition.

* * *

Another scowl adorned his face, encouraging the addition of a new set of lines on his forehead. From the moment he descended on the site of the crash and saved his brother's fair maiden from the evil villain before he swept her off her feet and into his grand convertible, driving into the sunset to Georgia, _both_ their phones have been ringing _nonstop_! And _yes_, the level of irritation he had surpassed _has_ prompted his sarcasm to intensify, not to mention made him a _very cranky vampire_.

A strangled scream bubbled in his throat, his mouth ejecting a sound that was somewhere between a groan and a growl as Elena's phone went off…_again_! He had _literally _lost count of the amount of types either of their phones came to life. He would answer, _alas_ he was short on time, his patience barely holding on to a thread after that _backstabbing_ _bitch_ destroyed the necklace, and he was in absolutely no mood for his brooding little brother. _Fact_!

Indignant, Damon blasted on the radio.

Startled into consciousness, Elena jerked forward, almost hitting her head on the car ceiling. Doe eyes blown wide, she clutched at the armrest, her expression the epitome of confusion and for a while, she floundered in the passenger seat. A hand pressed to her temple, Elena squinted at the alien scenery, completely lost.

Taking morbid delight in her reaction and slight suffering, the vampire behind the wheel addressed her in a faux cheerful tone, "Morning, Sunshine." Registering the individual behind the familiar voice, the brunette whipped her head around to properly face him, only to wince at the sharp movement; emitting a pained moan, she pushed past it and attempted to glare at him. _Key word, attempt_. "Oh, am I annoying you? Good, then we can be annoyed together. It's only fair. After all, you know what _they say_ – misery _loves_ company," he splenetically delivered his rant, sarcasm bleeding into every word.

Pressing her index and middle fingers on her temples, Elena slowly, so as to not aggravate her apparent head injury, rearranged herself into a proper sitting position. "Someone's grouchy," she muttered under her breath, earning a look of visible disbelief from the vampire with enhanced hearing. "Where _are_ we?"

"Georgia," he promptly disclosed, teeth grinding together at the vibration of his phone against his thigh, his irritation evolving to fury. "_Really_!" he growled to himself. Elena, having assumed the last part was emphasized to address her disbelief, proceeded to argue with him, rebuking him for '_basically kidnapping me!_' – "_Elena_, and I mean this in the _nicest_ possible way, sit tight and _shut up_," he hissed in a manner of forced calm, through gritted teeth. Mouth dropping in a perfect 'O' formation, Elena stared, wholly affronted and a smidge shocked as Damon had _never_ spoken to her like that before – _heck_, even when she slapped him, he didn't react with such violence.

Belatedly however, Elena realized that despite the charming front he dons and the sexy eye-thing he had a habit of doing, Damon was still Damon – a vicious, murderous, volatile vampire and usually, a Stefan-shaped boulder stood between her and the consequences of his rage. A shard of fear sliced into her, sudden regret at leaving Stefan slamming into her. "Where is my phone?" her breath stuttered, and _okay_, Damon felt a twinge of guilt for his irascible behavior. She frantically started to feel up her pants for her phone. "Ok. We really need to go back. Nobody knows where I am, and-, and _Snow_, oh my God, _Snow_…" Elena turned hysteric, tears welling in her doe eyes at the sudden recollection of Snow's disappearance. Her efforts to locate her phone grew desperate, the unexpected transformation alarming Damon. "Pull over. _I mean it_, Damon. Pull over! _Stop the car_!"

Eyes rolling aggressively in annoyance, Damon obeyed and pulled over by the side of the road, "Oh, you were so much more fun when you were asleep."

The car didn't even screech to a halt before Elena flew out of the car, attempting to create a semblance of distance between her and the cantankerous vampire. Limping out, her face nearly met the roadside wheatgrass if it weren't for Damon flashing by her side and steadying her. "Careful. There's no broken bones but you still hit you head."

Disregarding his concern and his fluctuating temper, Elena manically flapped her hands and insisted, "We _have_ to go back, Damon."

"Oh, come on. Look, we've already come this far–"

"Why are you doing this?" Elena interjected angrily. "I _can't_ be in Georgia. I wrecked my car. I have to go home. This is kidnapping."

Damon looked at her strangely, though amusement curved on his lips, the corners twitching upward. "That's a little melodramatic, don't you think?" a small chuckle escaped him.

Needing to return to Mystic Falls, desperate for news regarding Snow's whereabouts and annoyed over her vanished phone, Elena stubbornly folded her arms against her chest and deadpanned, "You're not funny. You can't do this. I'm _not_ going to Georgia."

Briefly, Damon entertained the thought of knocking Elena out until their return to Mystic Falls. Ruminating on that appealing notion, his gaze fell onto her neck or, to be more precise, her _bare _neck… and he thought, a little threat won't hurt. "Well, you're _in_ Georgia. Without your magical little necklace, I might add," he smirked, eyes pointedly dropping to her neck before meeting her wide brown orbs. "I can very easily make you… _agreeable_."

Fuming, Elena balled her hands into fists while she glared daggers at the arrogantly smirking vampire before her. A catty comment on the tip of her tongue, it remained buried at the familiar ringtone permeating the air. The trademark smirk instantly morphed into a moue of displeasure as he withdrew the offending object from his pocket. Elena lunged for her phone but the vampire's reflexes proved superior. "That's _my_ phone!" she snapped.

"_Mmm_. It's your boyfriend." If the circumstances were different, Elena would have probably refused to speak with Stefan out of spite, but she was _desperate_ for news about Snow. She stepped forward, hand out expectantly. Damon however, kept it out of reach, "I'll take it." Phone pressed to his ear and eyes glittering with glee at the chance to annoy his brother, Damon finally answered one out of the gazillion calls that had been blowing up their phones, "_Elena's phone…_"

The prompt retort was an equal amount of stressed and troubled, Stefan immediately thinking the worst of him – _as expected._ "_Where_ _is she? Why do you have her phone, is she okay?_" he demanded in one breath. Damon's eyes connected with a pair of furious chocolate browns, "_Elena? She's right here. And yes, she's fine._"

"_Where are you?_" Stefan snarled. Raven brows knit together in bemusement; not only was the bustling on the other end distracting, but Damon instantly identified his location – intimately familiar with the hustle and bustle of a hospital. Question is… _what is his brother doing in a hospital?_ The ensuing demand snapped him out of his contemplation, "_Let me speak to her_."

The growl Elena emitted was poorly performed and frankly adorable, "Give me the phone, Damon!"

Still indignant and irritable from before, and with Stefan carrying the mantle of his favorite outlet for his suppressed rage, Damon couldn't refuse to share the annoyance. A slow smirk colored his lips, "_Elena's currently unavailable. May I take your message…_"

A loud sigh echoed from the other end. If he weren't weary and defeated, Stefan would've engaged in an argument with his brother, "_Look, Damon, just let Elena know we-, we found Snow._"

Confusion surged; any and all signs of levity were drained from Damon's features. He frowned, electric blue orbs intense as they collided with Elena's tearful browns, the jigsaw piece beginning to connect into the full picture he, apparently, had been missing, "_Found Snow? What exactly is that supposed to mean, Stefan?!_"

Elena's olive complexion brightened with relief and she blinked back her tears, "Oh my God, put it on speaker!" No sooner had Damon acquiesced, did she blurt out, "_Where is she, is she okay?_" Her rushed inquiries and the relief lacing them brought Stefan up short, his silence sounding _extremely loud_ and _ominous_. "_Stefan? Say something, why-why've you gone quiet?_" the relief that previously coated her tone now replaced with choked tears.

"_Logan found her last night by the river bank underneath Wickery Bridge,_" Stefan revealed, voice strained. Elena gasped and Damon frowned. "_She-, I'm sorry, Elena. Snow was attacked, it's, it's not looking good._"

"_Oh my God, no! At-at-attacked, what do you mean attacked-_"

The brunette's stammers were cut off by an impatient Damon, the confusion never having left him, "_She has no scent, why would a vampire attack her?_" Elena did a double take at this piece of information, it being news to her. When silence met his inquiry, he growled out, "_Stefan?!_"

Stefan hesitated, "_It wasn't a vampire, Damon. According to Logan and Sherriff Forbes, it was premeditated. She was stabbed without remorse. And, and her attacker threw her over the bridge to hide her body._"

The elder Salvatore felt unbridled rage course through him, almost threatening to suffocate him. He could see nothing but red as comprehension dawned on him. Snow Silverstone, the kindest and sweetest person in the universe, was targeted by some sick _son of a bitch_, and to make matters worse, her body was meant to be dumped in the river – a body dump! While the vampire processed all this, Elena was inconsolable, hiccups choking her, "_Who would want to kill Snow? She's such a sweetheart, __**everyone**__ loves her._"

More importantly – "_Why haven't you or Logan give her blood already? What the hell are you waiting for!?_" Damon snarled angrily.

"_You think we haven't tried?_" Stefan snapped, outraged and offended over the insinuation that he or Logan weren't attempting to do the best they can for Snow. "_You think we've been sitting here twiddling our thumbs, watching paint dry?_" dry sarcasm delivered in a snarky tone alluded to the full extent of his current ill-temper. "_Sheriff Forbes, the Mayor and his wife haven't left the hospital and she's been taken in and out of surgery– Look, I gotta go, the surgeon is coming to update us._" And not giving either one of them a chance to get a word in, he hung up on them. Damon and Elena stood still for a moment, staring at the blank screen in a potent state of shock and fear, respectively.

Getting into the car, Damon started the engine, "Look, I have something I need to take care of. We'll get in and out, okay?"

Mute, Elena acknowledged him with a nod and kept her eyes on the landscape, tears falling down her face in constant streams as worst possible scenarios resonated in her head.

* * *

"Family of Snow Silverstone!" the surgeon that spent the better half of the night and early morning operating on Snow called out, making a beeline toward the congregation of five.

Logan immediately shot to his feet, "How is she?"

Grimacing, the surgeon took out his glasses and viciously rubbed his eyes. Putting them back on the bridge of his nose, he sadly shook his head, "For now, she's stable. The girl's a fighter, but… to be frank, it's not looking good." Then, he gently imparted, "I'm not saying you should expect the worst, I just don't want you to get your hopes up."

"What the _fuck _is that supposed to mean?" Liz lost her cool, her professional demeanor going out the metaphoric window, as her bloodshot eyes glared daggers at the silver-haired man.

The eccentric surgeon sighed and calmly asked, "Does Miss Silverstone have any blood relations around?"

Growing apoplectic, a vein bulging on his temple, Richard snapped, "You damn well know she doesn't, Dan! _You're_ the one who signed off her parents' death certificates!" Dr. Jeffreys sucked in a sharp breath, and Stefan detected perspiration accumulating on his forehead. "Quit stalling! What is this about?"

Dr. Dan Jeffreys may be Mystic Falls leading surgeon in possession of great intellect, his bedside manner nonetheless was _appalling_. Excluding medicine, the man was dim in regards to the basic rules of life and was, plainly put, a subpar human being. Furthermore, he had the atrocious character of a misanthrope.

Nobody liked being on the receiving end of the Mayor's wrath. Letting out a nervous cough, he revealed in a grave tone, "Er, yes, ahem, you see, Snow lost _a-a lot _of blood, if she doesn't get a blood transfusion, she _will_ die." The combined glares from the adults prompted him to splutter out, "She's O-, a universal donor—"

"So give her a blood transfusion!" Stefan was quickly losing control of his temper. How that man happened to be the best surgeon in Mystic Falls stumped him.

Removing his glasses once more, Dr. Jeffreys frantically shook his head in negative, "It's not that simple, young man." Dragging a hand down his face, he averted any and all eye contact from the five furious individuals, "The blood bank has been broken into. You-you see, our store has been _wiped out_ of O- blood type. So we, we _cannot_ give her a blood transfusion. Our only hope is a relative with the same type or, or somebody, a-a, a donation—"

"Why have I not heard about this!?" Liz demanded, her inner Sheriff reappearing. "This was not reported in!"

The irony almost had Logan dissolving into tears. He had the same blood type as Snow. If he were human, he'd have been able to donate in an instant. Regardless, the thought of donating _did _cross his mind; unfortunately, Snow was being monitored closely, Richard and Carol observing everything like a boil of hawks, not leaving her bedside for a minute, therefore, they'd realize her instantaneous healing and he'd be exposed. Although, he didn't really care about his continued existence as long as Snow lived. Filing the idea for later, Logan added, "Don't you keep a record of names and their blood types around here?"

His words prompted another wince out of the eccentric surgeon, his grimace more pronounced, "Of-, _of course_ we do. _You see_-" the utterance of those two words alerted the congregation to another issue, "-the files we have on computer have been deleted, and-, and our hardcopies are _missing_!" Their exchange was cut off by Jeffreys' pager going off, subsequently followed by a nurse's frantic yell of, "Dr. Jeffreys, _she's coding_!"

A short spell of nerve-wracking silence ensued, each one of the five mulling over the apparent foul-play occurring in Mystic Falls.

Carol choked out, "No stone has been left unturned!"

"If I had any doubts, I don't any more. This is definitely premeditated," a waver could be detected in Liz's voice, tears clinging to her lashes. "Breaking into the blood bank, it was a contingency in the scenario she survived the attack."

The two vampires and Richard were quick to connect the dots. It was Logan however, who vocalized the grim truth, "Meaning our attacker might be closer to home than we originally thought. It was a skillfully constructed plan. All the i's were dotted and the t's crossed." What a time to reunite with Snow. Almost like a higher power was testing him, to see whether or not he was worthy, ensuring all his practice with Sophie stuck. Because he felt an urge to drain every scumbag within the town's limits dry, the murderous demon within endeavoring to thrash its way out from its vault.

At that moment, Caroline and Bonnie approached them at full speed, tears in their eyes and staining their faces. Throughout the hugs and the tears and a few screams of denial on Caroline's part, Bonnie –still oblivious over Logan's new and improved nature – sent Stefan a meaningful look. Sighing, the two vampires shared grim nods; they needed everyone to clear out in order to slip Snow blood before her time ran out.

* * *

Suffice to say, this day wasn't Damon's best one. Not even _remotely close_.

While Damon practiced the art of deception on a near-daily basis, the art having been perfected by him – _not that he liked to brag. Lie!_ – the absolute hypocrite despised being lied to. When it came to his allies, he demanded their loyalty – liking him wasn't a necessity. Staying loyal, on the other hand, _definitely was_. Which was why the discovery of his favorite witch's treachery hit him hard.

He genuinely came to like Bree. Not as a friend. No, Damon Salvatore didn't have, nor did he want any friends. But for a witch, Bree had quickly become his favorite. And Bree knew, betraying him was a death sentence. He had come to the conclusion of her betrayal after Lee, Lexi's boyfriend, almost burned him to death, if not for Elena's compassion prompting her to plead to Lee's conscious and spare his life.

First Emily, now Bree. In the span of four days, the two witches he favored and held in high regards _betrayed him_.

Leaving Elena by the car, Damon casually strolled into the bar, his eyes on the witch as he grabbed his leather jacket and slipped it on. She kept her back turned, tear tracks marring her beautiful face as she downed back a shot. "We were just leaving, I wanted to say goodbye," Damon stated, his tone hard.

Her stance turned rigid, though she still kept her back to him and, in a flat voice, said, "Good to see you again, Damon."

Forcing his anger at bay, Damon maintained his nonchalance, "No kiss?"

_That_ prompted a reaction out of her. Bree furiously whirled around, her dark eyes narrowed, "I'm full of vervain. I put it in everything I drink."

Taking a few steps forward, around the bar, there was a ghost of a smirk on his lips at the flash of fear in her eyes. Cocking his head, he stilled, "And you're telling me this, _why_?"

"_Lexi was my friend_-" _Huh!_ That was news to him. How the hell did Bree get acquainted with Lexi and Lee? He had been under the assumption Lee tracked him down and Bree sold him out. Turns out, _she_ sought _Lee_ out, informing him of his location. "How could you?" Bree hissed, her voice cracking with grief at the end. Unable to stand the sight of him, she turned her back on him and reached out to pour another shot.

That was her _second mistake_.

One _never_ turned their back on a potentially murderous vampire.

Flashing in front of her and blocking a route of escape, Bree jolted back in alarm. "The tomb _can_ be opened!" she blurted out an exclamation, grasping for straws.

Sick and tired of everyone using his obsession with getting the tomb open against him, Damon snarled, "You're _lying_."

Gaze imploring, Bree did a feeble attempt to create space between them, desperate, "Emily's grimoire, her spell book. If you know how she closed the tomb, the reversal process will be in her book. You _can_ open the tomb."

"Where is this book?"

At a loss of words, Bree stuttered, "I…uh, I-"

"You have _no_ idea," Damon stated roughly, the words sneered through gritted teeth. Electric blue eyes pierced her solemnly, weighing her sincerity, her genuine fear selling it. Truthfully, Damon didn't want to kill her, but betrayal came at a heavy cost, and he couldn't trust her not to turn against him whenever opportunity struck. Damon wasn't one to keep around loose ends.

"No. I'm telling the truth," a begging quality in Bree's tone, she beseeched him.

Expression morphing into genuine regret, Damon took one last step forward, eliminating any aspect of personal space, "And I believe you, my _dear_, _sweet_ Bree. That's why I'm almost sorry." However, just as Damon prepared himself to end her life, Bree burst into speech, desperation pushing her into utilizing her last piece of information as a bargaining chip, "_Wait_! There's something else, something you should know."

Damon rolled his eyes, "Now you're just stalling."

"N-no. You need to-, you _must_ know," her eyes produced a stream and Damon instinctively brushed it off with the pad of his thumb. "_A darkness looms in the horizon_. For months now, The Spirits have been wailing, warning their descendants of this-, this _pure evil_! The air is contaminated, darkness pollutes it and Nature is _crying, screaming_ for help," her hushed voice had an eerie, sibilant quality and if she were confessing to anyone else, they would have reacted appropriately – with fear.

Incredulous eyes pierced the trembling witch. "What do I care about this so-called darkness? I'm a vampire, or as you witches like to name-call, an abomination of nature," Damon snarled mockingly, obviously not taking Bree's final warning to heart. _That_, or he simply didn't care.

"'Cause it all leads to _one_ specific location, Damon. A mystical hotspot, one that holds an abundance of dark secrets … And it is fast-approaching, it's destination Mystic Falls. Bad omens shall strike that town, if it hasn't begun already. This, I swear," it sounded like a prediction, Bree's voice having adopted a mystical quality, dropping all efforts to save her life. The moment she uttered 'Mystic Falls', followed by 'bad omens', Damon stilled, the perpetual paranoia within him convinced she was delivering a threat which prompted his orbs to darken to a menacing black.

He barked out a derisive scoff. Like a rollercoaster however, his rage morphed into amusement upon processing her monologue, "A darkness approaching Mystic Falls? You're _that_ desperate I spare your life that you're spouting tall tales to me? _A vampire_."

Frantic, Bree shook her head, "Not _just _Mystic Falls, Damon. This darkness, this-" she shuddered, "_evil_, while it has a specific destination, it does not pertain to a what, but a _who_. The location has been chosen because of a certain individual _residing in_ Mystic Falls. And where this person goes, the darkness shall follow."

Piqued, Damon curiously inquired, "And who may this unlucky person be?"

"I-I don't know. _We_ don't know. The Spirits cry for the Pure, a gentle soul who stands no chance. Not without help. _I _can help you," Bree pleaded, hands twisting around the collar of his shirt. Damon snorted, "I don't care about the darkness, or whoever it's targeting. I. only. care. about. getting. Katherine. out of. _the._ _tomb_," emphasizing his desire and his only concern, Damon plunged his hand into Bree's chest and grabbed her heart, watching as Bree's face morphed into agony, one last stream trailing down her face.

He savored the fear in her eyes for a moment longer before he ripped out her heart and dropped it next to her slumped body. Causally wiping her blood from his hands on a napkin from the bar, he left the bar.

* * *

Logan had been preparing to compel his way into Snow's OR and inject his blood into her system, _damn the consequences_, when Dr. Jeffreys suddenly appeared in their line of vision, a large smile on his wrinkled face as he approached the group waiting for Snow that had, all day, slowly increased in number. Joyfully, he brought his hands together and exclaimed, "I have _great_ news. The surgery was a success! Snow is currently in the intensive care unit, recuperating. In two days time, she can be discharged, but she'll have to take it easy for a while. No heavy activity, we don't want to rip her stitches, do we."

A collective sigh of relief pervaded the waiting room.

Richard, while overjoyed at the miraculous news, failed to conceal his annoyance at Dan Jeffreys dark humor. Why that man chose a profession where he'd have to interact with people on a constant basis and show sensitivity, he didn't know.

Similarly ecstatic, Logan however, couldn't shake the coincidence off. The timing was too… _good to be true_. Suddenly, Sophie's unhelpful advice echoed in his head. Eyes narrowed, he stopped Jeffreys before he could vanish from his line of sight, dragging him a bit away from the cheerful congregation, Richard and Liz hot on their heels, "How?" At the surgeon's bemused expression, Logan rolled his eyes at the incompetent moron, "You said a blood transfusion was required…" He trailed off at his discomfort, glaring at the uneasy roll of the old man's shoulders.

From his peripheral, Logan identified Stefan employing his enhanced hearing to eavesdrop on them and subsequently murmur the happenings in Bonnie's ear. Belatedly, Logan recalled Bonnie Bennett was not just the handful that knew of the Salvatores identity _but also_, from what he had been informed, a powerful witch in the making.

"Ahh, _you see_-" those two damns words again! "Right as we were in the middle of surgery, _you see_ we were in the middle of putting Miss Silverstone in suspended animation to buy her some time, a-a _man_ came in and donated blood. He was a-a _perfect match_. _Too perfect_, in fact! It was like a miracle…if you believe in such things," he marveled; regardless of the wonder in his voice, his nondescript visage remained apathetic.

Liz frowned in confusion, "Who was he?"

Logan and Richard – _and Stefan _– shared Liz's _exact _sentiments, suspicious of the arrival of some stranger who just _so happened _to have a matching blood type as Snow, appearing spontaneously and coincidentally saving her life just at the nick of time. There were too many consequences piling up, and the affair itself _reeked _with foul-play.

"I apologize, Sherriff Forbes, but _you see_-" cue inward groans! "-he specifically asked that his identity remain confidential. Hospital policy and all" Dr. Jeffreys shrugged, not really looking apologetic _at all_. Parting them with a weak, perfunctory smile, he detached himself from their presence and disappeared in the sea of staff.

Aggressively dragging a hand through his short hair, Richard hissed, "_Damn it_!" He then looked to Liz, irritation palpable on his handsome, aristocratic features, "Remind me later, Lizzie, to start looking for competent surgeons, will ya."

In response, the Sheriff fondly shook her head before returning to her daughter.

"Am I the only one grateful for this stranger's impeccable timing, yet _suspicious_ of his impeccable timing?" Logan addressed the Mayor, his hard gaze following the movements of their congregation's new arrivals – Damon and Elena. Huffing out a long-drawn-out sigh, Richard pursed his lips, head shaking in agreement, "No, there's definitely something fishy. I assure you, Liz and I will look into it." Turning to join his wife and son, he hesitated. Logan arched a honey-blonde brow at him. A firm hand on his shoulder, the elder of the two squeezed, "I'm proud of you, Logan. I'm sure Selene is as well."

Attempting to infuse a bit of levity, Logan jokingly called after his retreating back, "Love ya too, Rich!"

"Am I interrupting?" Damon's unwelcome snarky voice intruded. The newly-turned vampire glowered at the personification of asshole. "So, fill me in on what's been going on. I leave town for _one day_…"

While Logan grudgingly recited the _exciting_ events of the past day and a half, Stefan and Elena were finally having their little heart-to-heart. "Can we talk please? I hear the cafeteria has horrible coffee."

Elena responded with a half-smile, half-grimace, nevertheless she accepted the offer, and side-by-side the kind-of, not-really couple made themselves comfortable in an empty corner. Taking the proffered paper cup from Stefan, she commenced the awkward conversation, "You could have told me."

"I _wanted_ to tell you," Stefan implored her to believe him. A smidge defensive, he added, "It's not something that easily rolls off the tongue, Elena."

Solemn chocolate eyes fixated on Stefan's lovely pair of forest green. "You said no more lies," she pointedly reminded him. "Only the truth. I can handle the truth, Stefan. As crazy as it is, I can handle the fact that you are a vampire, and that you have a vampire brother, and that one of my best friends is a witch." Sighing, she swallowed the lump in her throat, "I can accept the fact that the world is a much more mysterious place that I ever thought possible. But this… this lie, I _cannot_ take." Incapable of holding her gaze, Stefan lowered his eyes, focusing on the murky brown liquid instead. A short pause later, Elena asked, "What am I to you? _Who_ am I to you?"

The brown head of hair promptly tilted upward. His expression grave and eyes sincere, Stefan didn't waste a second to put Elena's fears to rest, "You are _not_ Katherine. You are the opposite of _everything_ that she was."

"And when did you figure that out?" Elena snapped, "Before you kissed me? Before we slept together?"

Well aware that his incoming confession would drastically change Elena's life, Stefan sighed, "Before I met you."

A beat passed, a crease slowly materializing between her brows "What?"

Shifting closer, Stefan gently imparted, "The first day of school, when we met… It wasn't the first time, Elena."

She felt her heart struggle against its ribcage, its loud thundering almost deafening Elena, "Then when was it?"

"May twenty-third, 2009."

A horrifying silence ensued as Elena digested the implication of Stefan's words. Eyes wide, she frantically rubbed the goosebumps from her arms. "But that was…" she choked, eyes brimming with the beginning formation of tears. Stefan nodded, his features sorrowful, "That was the day your parent's car went off the bridge."

"You were there?" Elena's voice came out in a whisper, dreading the answer, yet needing to know.

And thus, Stefan elaborated, his tone soothing and gentle, "Every couple of years I come back here, to see Zach and see my home. Last spring, I was out in the woods by old Wickery Bridge, and I heard the accident. All of it. I was getting there, but not fast enough. The car was already submerged. Your dad was still-, he was still conscious. I was able to get to him, but he wouldn't let me help him, until I helped you."

While Stefan regaled the events from the worst night of Elena's life, tears flooded her face and once he was done, an epiphany struck her, the one thing that had everyone stumped, finally answered, "_Oh my God_. When I woke up in the hospital, nobody could figure out how I got out of the car. They said it was a miracle."

Stefan let out a long sigh. "I went back for them," he assured her, not wanting her to believe he simply saved her and abandoned her parents to their fate. "But it was too late. I couldn't-, I couldn't save them. When I pulled you out, I looked at your face. You looked like Katherine," looking like he was reliving the initial discovery, Stefan frantically shook his head. "I couldn't believe the resemblance. After that, I spent months making sure that you weren't her. I watched you. I learned everything that I could about you, and I saw that you were _nothing_ like Katherine. And I wanted to leave town, but Elena, I couldn't. I couldn't leave without knowing you. I'm so sorry that I didn't tell you. I wanted to, but you were so sad."

Once every sliver of information regarding _that night_ was disclosed by the vampire, Elena inquired after the one constant that had been bothering her _extremely_, from the split-second she stumbled across the picture, "_Why_ do I look like her?"

"Elena, you've been through so much and with Snow…" he trailed off. Stefan's hesitant preface, the compassionate tone he employed, and him trailing off immediately alerted Elena to red flags, knowing he _had_ an answer but she wouldn't like it. A stubborn fire lit up in her chocolate brown eyes, meeting Stefan's sorrowful gaze unblinkingly and expectantly. "No secrets, remember?"

Ejecting another dejected exhale, Stefan proceeded to elucidate, "It didn't make any sense to me. You were a Gilbert. She was a Pierce. But the resemblance was too similar. And then I learned the truth." A beat of silence engulfed them, Stefan pausing to gauge Elena's reaction who looked like she was about to fall over the edge of her seat, "You were adopted, Elena."

And there it was…everything concerning Elena was laid out on the table. Everything Elena knew… everything she _thought_ she knew—Reality came crashing down on her; her world flipping entirely on its axis. Her eyes no longer welled with tears. Instead, the impact of the news of her adoption prompted her limbs to shake ever so slightly. Stefan abandoned the seat across her to take the one beside her, embracing her to his chest, to which she gladly reciprocated, much to his relief. "How do you know all this?" she asked upon calming down.

"Your birth certificate from the city records," Stefan promptly informed her. "It says Elena Gilbert, Mystic Falls General. But there's no record of your mother ever being admitted. There's no record of her ever being pregnant."

Chocolate browns lifted, peering at the vampire from under eyelashes clumped with tears, "What else do you know?"

"For me to go any further, I would've had to look into the Pierce family, and I couldn't do that. It's too much of a risk. If someone found out I was asking about Katherine…" Noticing Elena was really shaken up, doubts skirting in her expressive eyes, Stefan cupped her face in the palm of his hands, raising it to squarely meet his heartfelt ones, "Listen to me, it doesn't matter. _You_ are the woman that I love. _I love you_."

Hesitantly, a genuine smile lit up Elena's features. Staring deeply into his eyes, Elena felt like crying and screaming, she wanted to rant and yell about the unfairness her life had suddenly become, but she had a best friend suffering at the moment, and she couldn't be selfish. She had all the time in the world to mope and mourn. "We need to find out who did this to Snow and why, Stefan."

Stefan's face changed in an instant, all softness and adoration he held toward this one girl in his arms morphing until he looked like he had been carved from stone.. "We will," he promised, pecking her on the top of her head.

* * *

In another section of the hospital, Logan, a vampire on a mission in current possession of a one-track mind, clung to the shadows as he expertly weaved through the halls, avoiding the security cameras distributed throughout the facility's corridors. Taking the convoluted passage to Medical Records which consisted of ducking into stairwells in order to avoid the cameras installed in the elevators, Logan rolled his eyes at the irritating extra shadow he had gained. "_Why_ are you following me, Damon," he hissed.

Damon smirked. "You look like a vamp on a mission and I'm bored," he retorted flippantly. "Thought watching you break the law'd be much more interesting than drinking through my bourbon collection," he added, inserting a hand in the pocket of his leather jacket in a manner of utmost nonchalance. Then, in afterthought, he said, "Doesn't hurt that I'm curious."

Chuckling wryly, Logan halted in his tracks to stare at the blue-eyed vampire, "From what I hear, your only concern is reuniting with your lost love." Teeth gritted, Damon returned the stare with a stoic look. Emitting another chuckle, Logan flashed around the last winding passage and, in rapid succession, hurled a coin into the lens of a security camera strategically positioned in the hallway leading to a door, shattering it.

"Good arm," came Damon's indifferent observation.

Exhibiting a mordant sense of humor, Logan shrugged a shoulder, his lips twisting into a bitter smirk, "Yeah, well, being part of the undead comes with a bunch of cool tricks."

In response, Damon rolled his eyes and gave him a scornful smile. "If you're waiting for me to apologize for killing you, fair warning, it'll never come. Not even when you're _dead_ dead. You were about to kill my brother, and _newsflash_, even if you weren't, I'd probably still kill you on the basis of your _stellar_ personality," sharp with a voice full of acid, Damon sneered. However, to his ever-growing irritation, Logan appeared unaffected, _that damn smirk_ merely widening, radiating mischief instead of its previous bitterness.

And without further ado, Logan opened the door to the Medical Records room with his elbow – wary of leaving his fingerprints anywhere. No sooner did he take a step inside, did a shrill scream of, "_Oh my God! L-Logan, Logan Fell! Th-The j-journalist!_" echo from the woman sitting behind the desk. Lust-filled blue eyes sparkled at him from behind a pair of clunky maroon-framed glasses; she was a plus-sized woman in her late twenties with auburn hair styled in a large updo at the crown of her head, a button nose, wide lips and a cleft chin.

Dialing up the charm, Logan sauntered toward her and rested his forearms on the counter, an orgasm-inducing smile that broadcasted his full set of pearly teeth on his face. "Hello, sweetheart," he grinned.

Scoffing, Damon followed, "Oh, _brother_." The woman had eyes for no one but Logan, irking the Salvatore vampire. Pulling the lone ranger his entire immortal life, he wasn't used to being overshadowed, another reason Logan Fell _pissed_ him off. Knowingly, Logan turned his grin to him before he winked at – "_I-I'm Shannon!"_ – the gushing mortal.

"Well, Shannon," Logan prefaced, grin firmly intact. "Is there anyone else back there?" he jutted his chin toward the backroom where all the files of legalese nature were archived. A boost of confidence instilled in her from the litany of pet names Logan bestowed upon her in the span of a minute, Shannon abandoned her chair, stood at his eye level and leaned into his personal space, her cleavage enhanced by her arms. "No, _no_. Just you and me," she breathed out, reverence in her tone.

"And chopped liver over here," Damon snarked, alternating between boring holes at _Shannon_, who completely disregarded him, his comment wholly ignored, and Logan, who choked back a laugh, incredibly amused by Damon's offense. Shaking his head, Logan mused aloud, "How _convenient_."

Regrettably, Logan was forced to conclude the amusing interaction as, while he deeply enjoyed provoking Damon, he had come down here for a reason and couldn't be distracted by his sudden favorite hobby. Not wasting another second, Logan compelled Shannon to leave the room and forget she had seen either one of them as he didn't doubt Richard, Liz or her deputies would be inquiring after the broken surveillance camera, the hospital soon to be heavy monitored due to the circumstances surrounding Snow's attack.

"I hate you," Damon stated, speaking as though he were matter-of-factly describing the weather.

Head flung back, the journalist barked out a laugh, eyes crinkled cheerfully. "I wonder why…? Could it be my sarcastic wit, good humor, or my flippancy toward you? Or how about my natural charm and mischievous behavior, my rising fame and my ineffable good looks?" he snapped his fingers in mock realization, "I know, I know. It's all of the above. It's actually very funny if you think about it, I'm the better _you_. Just without the functioning psychopath part."

"I can kill you, you know," Damon growled.

Honey-blonde brows tipped upward. "I think we've already established that, since _you did_ kill me," he chuckled, hands interlaced behind his back. Damon took a menacing step forward, "No. I mean _permanently_. I'm older which is equivalent to _stronger_. I can rip your heart out in the blink of an eye and not even feel a shred of remorse."

Logan rolled his eyes at his arrogance.

It was a common misconception among vampires apparently, one Sophie distastefully informed him of when she educated him on Vampire 101. According to the witches, most vampires put their faith _solely_ on their age to win battles, but the truth is it's a laughable misbelief. Emotion played a major role as, when a vampire feels…they feel _immensely_ – this was also the _main_ reason why most vampires with their humanity off were easier to kill; they _lacked_ emotions. In conclusion, Logan could feel it in his bones that, if he wanted to kill Damon, he could – the drive to kill him, the emotions overtaking him, the desperation to live, and his ability to outsmart the arrogant Salvatore would, collectively, lead to his victory – all of which motivated his lack of fear and complete nonchalance to the myriad of threats Damon threw in his face. Unfortunately, while Damon _had_ killed him, the irksome vampire had his uses.

Insouciantly leaning against the counter, Logan, despite his lazy grin, met Damon's dagger-like glare with solemn hazel eyes, "I'm not scared of you, Damon. You know why? 'Cause you _won't_ kill me." Raising a hand in the air, he abruptly stopped Damon from snarling a retort, probably something along the lines of "_wanna bet!?_" and continued, "Because as much as you want to deny it, you've grown to _care_ for Snow, and murdering her godfather will hurt _her_. You claim you don't care about anyone but yourself and getting into the tomb, but I know for a _fact_ that being around Snow awakens your humanity." The Salvatore brother clenched his jaw, but remained silent, devoid of any clever rejoinders. "_Also_, it doesn't hurt that I've got a bunch of witches on my side and that if you kill me, you have _no idea_ what their response would be. Would they retaliate? Would they care? Are you being watched right now? …Mindblower, ain't it?" a sarcastic chuckle with hints of mischief emanated from his lips.

Yet again, Damon growled, "_I hate you._"

"I'll take that as a compliment," the journalist winked, patting him on his clavicle before disappearing in the sea of floor to ceiling filing cabinets, hazel orbs intense and no longer overflowing with mischief or glee. "So, you gonna just stand there, or are you willing to lend a hand?" he called over his shoulder, already rummaging through the cabinet decked with a sticker titled "December 2009".

Emitting a weak groan, Damon joined his side, "Fine. Just to satiate my curiosity." Hearing the noncommittal sound Logan made, he rolled his eyes and huffed, "_And_ for Snow."

After a brief pause, Damon spoke up again, "I'll say this only _once_ and if you repeat it, I'll deny it, _then_ kill you but… a small part of me is glad you had vampire blood in your system."

"Of all the times to leave my recorder at home," Logan joked, chuckling to himself.

Owing to their enhanced speed and their joined efforts, it didn't take long for Logan to finally hit jackpot. A victorious grin on his face, Logan flipped open the appropriate file with much relish, though his good mood only lasted a moment. Face paling rapidly, eyes growing marginally, and hands shaking, he gasped out, "That's not possible…"

Frowning, electric-blue eyes sought him out, confused by his frozen state. Neck craning forward, Damon peered at the file. "What is it-, _what the hell_!?" he hissed, involuntarily mimicking Logan's stance. Together, both vampires stared at the name written in fine print, glaring back at them, and to the journalist, the signature did not lie, its familiarity wiping away all thoughts of plagiarism.

"He's dead. There's-there's no way. _Absolutely impossible_!" the papers fell from Logan's loose grip, fluttering ominously until they landed on the floor, still and innocuous.

Blinking, Damon regarded the frantically pacing Logan Fell. "Vampires _cannot_ donate blood," Damon stated, his words prompting the pacing to become more erratic. "I mean _we can_ donate blood, but, our blood doesn't have any antigens or antibodies, thus making the point moot!" His bemusement had his rant change directions, "Plus quantity isn't important when it comes to our blood and recovery time is unnecessary and if a vampire donated blood then the Council would be on high alert, but they're not, which means—"

"He cannot just _rise_ from the _dead_!" Logan snapped, cutting into Damon's rambles. "And there are no such things as zombies. He _cannot_, as you've mentioned, be a vampire," he listed, expression grim upon reaching the most obvious conclusion, the ugly truth glaring back at him and making him stagger backward, eyes wide in profound horror. "Which means…"

It was an equally grim Damon to utter the truth Logan could not, "_Which means_ Stanley Silverstone faked his own death and is very much _alive_."

* * *

"_**That man is not one to be trifled with, Sophie. His threats are not empty ones. Our only hope is that the girl survives. If not…**_**" **_**– **__**Josephine LaRue**_

"_**This doesn't make sense. My entire life, I've known Snow as the quiet girl. Who'd want her dead!?**_**" **_**– **__**Tyler Lockwood**_

"_**Snow Silverstone? The mousey little girl who could barely hold eye contact? Yeah, I remember her. Babysat her a couple of times. She's a real sweetheart. What about her?**_**" **_**– **__**Mason Lockwood**_

"_**I want that murdering scumbag's head on a platter!**_**" **_**– **__**Caroline Forbes**_

"_**Vicki? Look, I don't know where you are, or if you've been getting any of my calls, but… I thought you should know. Something's happened to Snow…**_**" **_**– **__**Matt Donovan**_

"_**Never met the guy who totaled your car, Elena. And if I've never met him, I wouldn't know him. I mean, it's not like we all hang out together at the Vamp Bar & Grill.**_**" **_**– **__**Damon Salvatore**_

"_**Listen up everybody! Here's to the man that broke my heart, crushed my soul, destroyed my life, and ruined any and all chances of happiness! Drink up!**_**" **_**– **__**Bree**_

"_**About twenty years ago, when I was a sweet, young freshman, I met this beautiful man, and I fell in love. And then he told me about his little secret, made me love him more. Because, you see, I had a little secret of my own that I was dying to share with somebody.**_**" **_**– **__**Bree**_

"_**Bonnie, there's something you should know. Something happened to your friend, Snow…**_**" **_**– **__**Sheila Bennett**_

"_**If a vampire didn't attack Snow, then who did, Stefan? This just, this doesn't make sense! And where's Elena? She hasn't been answering any of mine or Caroline's calls. It's not like her.**_**" **_**– **__**Bonnie Bennett**_

"_**Let's just say that I'm descended from Katherine…does that make me part vampire?**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert**_

"_**Vampires can't procreate. But we love to try. No, if you were related, it would mean Katherine had a child before she was turned.**_**" **_**– **__**Damon Salvatore**_

"_**You'd risk exposure and probably death, for Snow. …Wow. Everyone in this town's pegged you all wrong. You really do love her. You're a good man, Logan. I'm glad you didn't die. …uh, I mean, permanently.**_**" **_**– **__**Stefan Salvatore**_

"_**Someone's gotta help you keep this town safe from raging psychopaths who lash out by killing… like your brother.**_**" **_**– **__**Logan Fell**_

"_**There's something different about him. Logan's different. More responsible and mature. I feel like I'm seeing the person he was when Selene was alive.**_**" **_**– **__**Carol Lockwood**_

"_**As long as I keep a healthy diet of blood in my system, my body functions pretty normally.**_**" **_**– **__**Damon Salvatore**_

"_**When someone says a place is haunted…don't go in.**_**" **_**– **__**Dean Winchester**_

"_**It's about time Logan started acting his age.**_**" **_**– **__**Richard Lockwood**_

"_**I know in this town we're avid followers of innocent until proven guilty, but I say we take the law into our own hands, grab out pitchforks and storm over to Lucille's!**_**" **_**– **__**Jenna Sommers**_

"_**I bet you anything Lucille the Wicked Witch has something to do with this. Don't look at me like that you guys! I'm gonna point fingers as much as I like. I don't trust her. I mean… where the hell is she? She and her disgusting spawns didn't even bother showing up!**_**" **_**– **__**Caroline Forbes (to Bonnie, Matt & Tyler)**_

"_**I am normal. I'm just telling the truth for the first time. I mean, why are we even here? 'Cause you're following Dad's orders like a good little soldier? Because you always do what he says without question? Are you that desperate for his approval?**_**" **_**– **__**Sam Winchester**_

"_**You hate me that much? You think you could kill your own brother? Then go ahead. Pull the trigger. Do it!**_**" **_**– **__**Dean Winchester**_

"_**Okay Elena that's enough. Drowning yourself in tequila shots won't do Snow much good. We'll be out of here soon and back in Mystic Falls.**_**" **_**– **__**Damon Salvatore**_

"_**If you want to be with someone forever, you have to live forever.**_**" **_**– **__**Lee**_

"_**Lexi loved you! And she was good! And that means you're good too. Be better than him. Don't do this. I'm begging you! Please.**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert**_

_**Sam Winchester:**_** "**_**I'm sorry, man. I said some awful things back there.**_**" **_**Dean Winchester:**_** "**_**You remember all that?**_**" **_**Sam Winchester:**_** "**_**Yeah. It's like I couldn't control it. But I didn't mean it, any of it.**_**"**

"_**He's still a Scum!**_**" **_**– **__**Jenna Sommers**_

"_**You were there in the road, all damsel-in-distress-like. And, I knew it would piss off Stefan. Not to mention Snow would be devastated. And… you're not the worst company in the world, Elena.**_**" **_**– **__**Damon Salvatore**_

"_**I used to be more fun.**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert**_

"_**He killed me. I had a feeling one day Damon Salvatore would be responsible for my death. But I did it. I told him. Hopefully he'll recall my warning when the bad omens begin and do something about it.**_**" **_**– **__**Bree (to The Spirits)**_

"_**Okay…Question: am I adopted? I trust you to tell me the truth too, Jenna. How could you not tell me? I thought we were closer than that.**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert**_

"_**One more strike, and I'll go to Mystic Falls.**_**" **_**– **__**John Gilbert**_

"_**Sheila, this is just the beginning!**_**" **_**– **__**Emily Bennett**_

"_**She's alive.**_**" **_**– **__**Sophie Deveraux**_

* * *

**A/N:**** Da-Da-Dummm. Sorry for the cliffhanger! Actually, no I'm not! LOL!**

**(1) I hope you enjoyed this chapter. How did you like the Logan/Damon bonding? Or well, not bonding, but I totally love their dynamic! I enjoy writing their parts, I start out with a short scene and then their personalities make it longer and longer! I'm thinking of making them friends along with Alaric… would be interesting, huh?**

**(2) So there were a lot of revelations in this chapter! I'd love to know what y'all think, especially Bree's words. And OMG the Stanley Silverstone plot… did I blow your minds away? I've got huge plans for that plotline! I also enjoyed writing our little murder mystery… the perp was thorough, huh.**

**(3) SPN Timeline: We're done with Asylum!**

**On another note, I am currently halfway through Interference - The Hybrid Witch, so the next chapter will be updated in the next few days as I am making it extremely long.**

**Next chapter of this will come out after at least 10 Reviews. Since I'm deviating a lot, I would really like to know your thoughts and if you're enjoying the plot and the changes I made from The Cinderella Story. Please, leave some Reviews so I know how I'm doing.**

**R&R.**


	13. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer:**** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters, ideas and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

_**CHAPTER 12:**_

**THE FIFTIES BITES**

* * *

**Guardian (**_**noun**_**): a person who is legally responsible for the care of someone who is unable to manage their own affairs, especially a child whose parents have died**

"_**I think that someone is watching out for me, God, my guardian angel, I'm not sure who that is, but they really work hard.**_**"**

"_**It is good to be scared. It means you have something to lose.**_**"**

"_**Every fairytale needs a good old-fashioned villain.**_**"**

"_**She'll make it out, but she's never the same. She's lookin' down, at the scars that remain.**_**"**

* * *

Upon the passing of the two prescribed days, Snow was finally discharged into Logan's care. Throughout the entirety of her stay at the Intensive Care Unit, Logan only left her side for a change of clothes, Richard a close second, canceling all important mayoral duties for the span of her stay. Carol and Jenna were regular fixtures as well, though since they had mouths to feed and teenagers to take care of, they couldn't park by her bedside for long; the same for Liz Forbes, her added duty as Sheriff eliciting an apology for her inability to stay long. Her friends too, made a point to stop by before and after school, and even the Salvatore brothers weren't strangers to her bedside. Another regular visitor was Roy Dawson, his jovial smile and his wife's home-cooked meals touching her deeply. And… despite the horrible circumstances that landed her on that hospital bed, fighting for her life, and in immeasurable pain, Snow Silverstone secretly admitted she's never felt happier, the realization finally hitting her that she _was_ very much loved and that her absence would be missed and profoundly mourned.

The subsequent three days were spent in Silverstone Manor, Logan temporarily moving in until Lucille and her daughters returned to town. Apparently, with all the suspicions circulating in regards to Lucille's _strange _absence from the hospital, she had become a person of interest in the investigation surrounding Snow's attempted murder – suspicions instigated by Carol and Jenna, both of whom harbored a deep aversion to the "_hag!_" for not only successfully integrating herself into their close-knitted community by marrying into one of Mystic Fall's foremost prestigious and prominent families, but mostly because of her disregard for Snow and the atrocious treatment she received at Lucille's hands. Unfortunately for Jenna and Carol, the main women spearheading the campaign to have her arrested, Lucille had taken her daughters to Hawaii for the week, none of them fans of the winter season, and had left town the moment school let out on Wednesday afternoon, which so happened to coincide with Snow's attack.

What irritated them the most was that it was a mother-daughter tradition for the odious trio – even when Stanley Silverstone was alive. Lucille would take her daughters to Hawaii on Snow's birthday and depending on circumstances, they would remain on the island for days up to a week. This arrangement worked well for Stanley and Snow, as it allowed them privacy and the continuation of their traditions. Jenna however, despite the week-long tradition, was adamant the timing was perfect for Lucille to get away with her reprehensible act, but Liz's hands were tied; she couldn't go around, blindly blaming selective townspeople on the basis of her deep disdain toward them, not without _tangible proof_, and upon checking the passenger manifest, the spotlight eliminated from Lucille, as it was impossible for her to be in two places at once.

Outside of Richard and Liz's investigation, new developing issues were suddenly made aware regarding Snow.

Shaken up by her near-death experience, the fact a killer was loose in Mystic Falls, and that a non-vampire had a vendetta against Snow for reasons unknown to her and everybody else, her movements were watched around the clock. Stuck indoors on bed rest, Logan had been willing to _literally_ camp in her bedroom, a sleeping bag already prepared with the purpose of sleeping on the floor of her bedroom so that he would remain close to her side at all times, however that was until Caroline came up with the brilliant suggestion to have a marathon sleepover at Silverstone Manor – "_Come on! The last time we had a sleepover there was when we were __**eight**__! I really think this'll do Snow some good. __**Plus**__, we should take advantage of the witch-bitch and her disgusting cows' absence!_"

Naturally, as most of Caroline's ideas, her suggestion was considered a great one – Snow put the sun to shame with the face-splitting smile that materialized on her face when she descended the stairs to find the three girls camped out in her living room, three mattresses fastened together to make one large bed that'd fit all four of them, strategically placed in front of the large plasma television flanked by stacks of DVDs, and a mountain of junk food in between – "_We're gonna slumber it!" Elena grinned toothily_ – and, under Logan's watchful gaze, not to mention his enhanced hearing, they were cocooned in safety. He ensured Elena, Caroline and Bonnie didn't skip school to appease the parents/guardians, however, the moment school let out, the girls religiously made their way back to the Manor.

Suddenly, the mattress dipped and a pair of strong arms wound around her, the concern in Logan's inquiry bringing her back to planet earth, "How're you feeling, honey?"

"A bit sore," she admitted easily, her hand hovering around the almost unblemished skin of her abdomen.

This eventually enlightened them to the aberration that revolved around Snow.

While mediocre compared to a vampire's healing factor, Snow _was_ healing at an accelerated rate for _a human_. Following her awakening from surgery, the physical damage to her abdomen healed too quick to be considered normal until, five days later – _today morning_ – the scarring of her abdomen was minimal. In fact, Logan postulated by nighttime or the next morning, there wouldn't be any lingering scar tissue. Despite the exterior of the stab wound, Snow nevertheless suffered from internal injury, any abrupt movement paining her – and that anomaly eliminated any vestige thought Logan and Damon had, that the miraculous transfusion had been laced with vampire blood, which inevitably cured her.

All in all, her enhanced healing alerted the group to the postulation that Snow _might not be fully human_.

Upon inquiry, Bonnie and her Grams vehemently insisted Snow Silverstone was not a witch – Sheila would have automatically sensed Snow as a fellow witch from the moment of her birth and that neither Selene nor Stanley were witches. Getting in touch with Sophie, while bemused by the oddity of his query, adamantly claimed that neither she, nor her coven, had cast any sort of spell on the girl, and that the nature of a healing spell was to _instantaneously_ heal any and all injuries afflicting a person, and not result in a half-completed healing.

Consumed by terror that her attacker would return to finish the job upon discovering she had survived, irregardless of all the odds stacked against her that ensured her death, nobody brought it up, not wanting to further her concerns by shedding light that she _might_ not be fully human. Snow already thought of herself a freak and a weakling because of her 'subservient' character and forgiving nature. Additionally, Logan and Damon simultaneously came to the decision to postpone informing her of the mysterious donor's identity, claiming the truth, which was that the man chose to keep his identity confidential. Logan didn't have the heart to break the news to Snow; while he knew Snow would be delighted at the discovery that her father was alive, there was no doubting the heartbreak the revelation would generate as, not only did Stanley _abandon _her, but he left her in an abusive and oppressing household while letting her mourn him to the extent that, despite the passage of years, Snow had yet to get over the depression of his death.

"Honey, won't you reconsider? Let me give you a drop of my blood, your internal injuries will go and that way, you can enjoy the dance with your friends. I'll be chaperoning," Logan cajoled, looking down at her with a fond smile on his handsome face. He wanted Snow to enjoy herself and act like the teenager she was supposed to be without death threats hanging over her head. When Logan finally decided to become the guardian Selene wanted him to be, he made a promise to himself to keep her safe and happy, therefore, he didn't want her living in constant fear, choosing to hole herself up behind closed doors and ignore the world.

Her lips pursed into a sad pout. "Uncle Logan, Lucille and the twins will most definitely be back sometime today." A breathy scoff left her, "There's no way Haisley and Paisley are going to miss a school dance. Not willingly. Not even for sunny Hawaii. So… you won't be able to stick around anymore." She averted his intent gaze, instead focusing on his fingers as she absentmindedly fiddled with them.

Tamping down the fury coursing through him, Logan forced a smile and with the middle knuckle of his index finger, tilted her chin up to meet his hazel eyes, "I know. Which is why you're sleeping at my place for the remainder of the week, I'm just waiting for Lucille to arrive so I can formally notify her." Snow's eyes instantaneously sparkled with gleeful delight at his words. He grinned, teeth on full display, "Now, _please_ let me heal you with my blood."

If Logan had it his way, that-, _that woman_ and her brats would be kicked out of the Manor and in the streets. Already vindictive, becoming a vampire amplified his worst traits, and Logan Fell found himself currently thirsting for vengeance more than blood. He had a plan, one that the calculating and ruthless Fell was taking his time to implement. However, if all _went to plan_, he estimated before Snow's eighteenth birthday and thus, the reading of Stanley and Selene's will, Lucille and her daughters would no longer be residents of Silverstone Manor, nor will they have access to the riches and valuables available with the Silverstone name.

Worst case scenario, if all didn't go according to plan, Logan vowed to murder Lucille and be rid of her toxic existence once and for all, rendering her daughters penniless orphans.

A line of wetness cascaded down her face, "What if my attacker finds me again? I don't want to be a vampire."

Gently carding a hand through her hair, Logan radiated utmost calmness with all the strength he could muster as the mere mention of his goddaughter's attacker risked him flying into a bout of uncontrollable rage, "Snow, it's just a drop. The lesser the quantity the sooner it'd be flushed from your system. By the dance, you won't have any blood in your system and _besides_-" wagging his eyebrows, he donned a charming smirk, "-I am not letting you out of my sight. I'm chaperoning, remember?"

Emitting a giggle, she nodded obediently. Relieved, Logan pricked his finger and allowed a few drops of his blood to dribble into a plastic cup. "The decision is yours. I'm not going to force you, hun."

Snow eyed the cup in contemplation. While the pain was more bearable than the previous day, Snow had been looking forward to attending the dance with her best friends. Decade Dances were Snow's favorite events in Mystic Falls High, and from the moment school began on September, she's been impatiently waiting for the first one. Staring intently at the crimson blob at the bottom of the cup, she nodded to herself, having come to a decision; she didn't want to be on bed rest anymore and she wanted to enjoy the 50s dance with her friends and go to school again – though she'd have to act in pain and purposely slow her movements for a while so as to not have the Council become suspicious of her swift recovery.

Hand trembling, she downed back her godfather's blood. The feeling was instantaneous; she felt tissue knitting internally and the pain decreased into a speck before finally, it was gone.

A smile broke out on Snow's face and she stared at Logan in wonder, "It's gone. I don't, I'm not in pain anymore. _Thank_ _you_!" Arms extended, she lunged at Logan, embracing him tightly, to which the vampire gladly reciprocated, his lips lingering at the top of her head as he placed a chaste kiss.

The familial moment was broken by the telltale sound of a car approaching and then haphazardly parking by the driveway, his augmented hearing identifying Lucille's arrival while Snow remained blissfully unaware. Untangling himself from Snow's desperate grip, he placed a kiss on her forehead and smiled, ensuring it filled her with reassurance – he didn't want Snow worrying about her step-mother anymore, not while he's around. "Pack a bag, will you? Don't worry if you leave anything behind, I'll buy you whatever you need. I'll be having a _little_ _chat_ with your step-mom, 'kay?"

The usual sensation of uneasiness Snow experienced before any confrontations with Lucille had dissipated, Logan's presence in her life shrouding him with unbreakable safety. Nodded happily, she jumped out of bed, a bell-like laugh escaping her at the lack of pain and her restored mobility.

Descending the stairs, the relaxed, easygoing air encapsulating Logan was gone at the sight of _that woman_. "Madam _Styne_. It's been a while," he captured her muddy-green stare which were wide with unadulterated surprise with a baleful glare of his own. Similarly, upon seeing Logan Fell in _her_ house, she banished her tittering daughters from the room with a stern glance. The twins grudgingly left, though not before they each sent Logan a yearning, star-struck gaze that had him inwardly shudder.

Sniffing in disdain, Lucille haughtily retorted, "It's _Silverstone_ as you are well aware, Mr. Fell. I find myself confused and frankly, insulted at you and Mayor Lockwood's persistence to call me by _my previous name_."

"Do you?" he bit back sarcastically, a brow arched in mock disbelief. Reaching the landing, Logan summoned a necessary amount of tolerance to withstand the shrew before him as he crossed the distance between them. "The front you portray may work on most of the town, but not on me. It _never_ has." Suddenly, he snapped, "Where have you _been_?!"

Her visage an ugly shade of maroon, she sneered, "I do not see why it is _any _of your business! You have _no business here_."

"Ahh, but I _have_ returned." A Cheshire-like smile on his face that never bode well to those unlucky few who happened to be on its receiving end, he divulged, each word emphasized for his total audience of one, "_For good_." Maroon turned to a shocking pale of white, Lucille comprehending the true meaning behind those two innocuous words. "Your stepdaughter nearly _died_. Did you know that? She was attacked on her way home from school. _Convenient_ your trip to Hawaii, wasn't it?" Logan's tone _reeked_ heavily of condescension, the accusation clear in his flinty hazel orbs.

Rearing back as though she had been struck, Lucille spluttered in indignant rage, "Ho-How _dare_ you!" Her complexion rapidly went through many shades, settling on a crimson flush of fury. "Are you _insinuating_ that _I _had anything to do with the attempt on her life!? If I had known, I would have taken a flight back, but as you _well _know-" she sneered pointedly, her following dig specifically meant for the journalist, "-news in Mystic Falls is _not_ broadcasted internationally or nationally."

"Ouch," he uttered sarcastically, a hand over his heart in mock offense. "You're saying you had _absolutely nothing_ to do with the attempted murder on _my goddaughter_?!" a warning laced his tone, daggers boring into her skull.

Invading his personal space, Lucille poked him on the sternum, her nail digging into his royal-blue muscle-fit jumper with each prod and her lip curling in contempt, "I _deplore_ your implication. I may not have treated Snow like I do my daughters, and I admit, I do not love Stan's girl, I never have. But I am _no murderer_!"

Silence ensued.

Whereas Lucille was tense, her face flushed and teeth bared, absolutely furious and defensive, Logan was the epitome of poise and nonchalance. Hands clasped behind his back, acute hazel orbs analyzed her, his handsome features smooth and placid. Toward the end of Lucille's heated defense however, his eyes narrowed ever so slightly, a reaction that couldn't be distinguished by the human eye. "No. No, Lucille, you're not. I believe you. You're no murderer," he finally uttered, observing her carefully with intent eyes. Appeased, she took a step away from him, an inaudible exhalation of relief leaving her. But Logan wasn't done. "You _would never dare_ get your hands dirty," he sneered, taking a menacing step forward and covering the distance Lucille recently vacated. "You're not a murderer. No. Just a skilled _liar_ and an even better negotiator."

If looks could kill, six feet under would be a kindness to Lucille, one she didn't deserve.

Splutters emanated from her, but before a retort could slip past her lips, Logan cut her off, "Back to the matter at hand, Snow will be staying with me for the remainder of the week. As her _legal guardian_, I'm doing the courtesy of notifying you, not that you'd care or even notice her absence, _hmm_." Bitterness and malice incorporated together to create a tone of contemptuous loathing that made Lucille flinch back in alarm.

At that moment, light footsteps permeated the air and a hesitant Snow appeared, a duffle bag over her shoulder and her large violet orbs fixated on Logan, purposely disregarding Lucille's presence. Giving Lucille another baleful glare, Logan sidestepped her and rushed over to Snow's side, immediately extricating the duffle bag from her hold and transferring it onto his own shoulder. Placing his other arm around her shoulders, he escorted her to the door, his glare not once detaching from Lucille's furious face.

Gritting her teeth, the bony woman forced her lips to spread into a smile – it looked painful. "Snow _darling_, I feel so _terribly_ guilty I wasn't here in your time of need. _Do_ forgive me," her motherly tone didn't fool anyone. Nevertheless, Snow grimaced and in a barely audible voice, whispered, "It's-, it's alright."

"No, no it _isn't_," Logan interjected in a harsh voice. "From here on out, all decisions pertaining to Snow, whatever necessities she might need, they will _all_ be taken care of by _me_. _I _make the decisions, what I say goes. _This_ is _Snow's_ house and the house of _her_ ancestors, and for that reason she will continue to live here. But make no mistake, _I _am her guardian and I _will be_ monitoring you and your daughters closely, one step out of line and I'll make sure you no longer call this Manor home. _Got it_?!"

Rendered speechless, Lucille stuck to glowering at the formidable journalist as though she hoped the potency of her glare would end with his death.

Smirking nastily at the older woman, Logan ushered a timid Snow out of the Manor, "I'll be seeing you, _Madam Styne_."

* * *

"_Knock, knock_!" an exuberant feminine singsong voice seeped into the house's interior from the crack under the door.

Opening the door, Logan grinned charmingly at Elena and Stefan. The brunette promptly waltzed inside and, to Logan's surprise, greeted him with a quick yet tight hug, her returning grin dazzling and genuine. While Jenna had _major_ issues with Logan Fell that spanned all the way back to when they were high school sweethearts to him 'ditching' town on her in present-day, Elena had no grievances with the journalist, _slash_, best friend's godfather.

Truth be told, Elena found herself growing inconceivably fond of her aunt's ex-boyfriend, feeling bad that Jenna had quickly moved on with Alaric Saltzman.

"And hello to you too, Princess," Logan chuckled, squeezing the brunette's shoulder affectionately. Elena rolled her eyes in good humor, playfully swatting him for the nickname. Still chuckling, his voice full of laughter, he called out, "Snow, can you invite Stefan!" He had signed the deed of the house over to Snow in order to keep unwelcome vampires from entering without permission _and_ to act as a safe-house for his goddaughter. No sooner had he asked, did the barrier preventing Stefan entry collapse, allowing him to cross the threshold and join his girlfriend.

Pecking her boyfriend on the cheek and sticking her tongue out at Logan, Elena rushed to the room designated as Snow's new and improved bedroom, while Stefan shared a beer with Logan in the living room.

Peering around the door, Elena squealed her friend's name and flung herself onto her bed, strangling Snow in an almost suffocating embrace. Violet orbs shone with glee at the sight of her best friend; although they had seen each other that same morning, Snow missed her _already_. It was agreed upon by Elena and Bonnie that, their marathon sleepover would revolve around normalcy, a relive of the good old days before the Salvatore brothers strutted into Mystic Falls, toting around their dark secret, and therefore, they hadn't spoken a word of vampires or witches or evil lookalikes – especially since Caroline was regrettably, _still_ in the dark.

The pleasantries out of the way, Elena broke into a lengthy speech, elucidating Snow on everything she had missed out on since Wednesday afternoon, beginning with the vampire that totaled her car to Damon rescuing her and forcing her onto a road trip to Georgia, all of which was initiated by her freak out over the fact that she lookedlike an _exact replica_ of Katherine, culminating to Stefan informing her of his discovery: she was adopted by the Gilberts.

Snow, ever the avid listener, made the perfect audience, emitting the right sounds throughout Elena's tale, her expressive face morphing into a variety of appropriate emotions at each part. "_Wow_, Lena, just-, just _wow_! That's a lot to take in. So Katherine's basically your identical twin." All of a sudden, a trill of laughter escaped her and she smacked a hand to muffle the end of it. Sheepishly, she shrugged, though her eyes glittered with uncontained mirth, "Lena, you _literally_ have an evil twin!"

And just like that, Elena's glumness regarding the entire Katherine matter was swept away by Snow's unique ability to look at the world. Forget rose-tinted glasses… it should be called _Snow_-tinted glasses, patented by the aforementioned bubbly teen herself. "Only you, Snow. Only you," she chuckled, head shaking fondly. "I'm not happy about it but…Stefan loves me for who _I _am, not because I look like her," she justified.

"Of that I _never_ doubted," Snow's tone radiated utmost confidence. "I don't just see it, Lena, I _feel it_. From the very first day, whenever he so much as looks at you-" an blissful emotion overtook her lovely features and she inhaled deeply, interlaced hands hovering over her heart, "-I can't describe it. And anyways, while you and Katherine do look the same, it's your personalities that make you different. Stefan fell in love with _you_, Elena. Love is, it's a result of the entire package, not physical appearance. You cannot fall in love with somebody because they're beautiful or handsome."

Elena chuckled, "My best friend, the poet."

A mock scowl on her face, Snow playfully kicked the brunette off her bed. Landing on her derriere, after a moment of blinking, both girls burst into laughter, a veneer of moisture in their respective eyes. Recovering from their bout of humor, Elena jumped back onto the bed, her shoulder brushing the raven-haired girl's. "Hey, Lena…" Biting her lower lip, Snow tilted her head to properly gauge Elena's reaction, a small crease between her brows, "Do you think it's possible that… the vampire you ran over and my attacker are the same person?"

"No," Elena vehemently shook her head. "This guy's stalking me _and_ a while back, he called my phone. Besides, a vampire doesn't use blades, _and_ according to our resident vampires, you don't have a scent. There's no legit reason for a vampire to target you. _Plus_, Logan, Stefan, Damon, Mayor Lockwood _and_ Sherriff Forbes are quite adamant he's human." She reached out for Snow's hand.

Lowering her gaze to their linked hands, Snow whispered, "That doesn't make me feel any better. All my life, I've never hurt _anyone_, why would this person try to kill me?"

The brunette embraced the dark-haired girl, tears running down her face at what their lives had become. Elena was being stalked by a vampire and Snow was being hunted by some assassin. Ten years ago, when they wondered where they would be in the future, _this wasn't it._ "I don't know, Snow, but I _promise you_ we're going to find out. We're all looking into it. _Everyone _is invested in finding this sicko. We're gonna keep you safe," Elena's tone was firm, leaving no room for doubts or what if's.

Letting out a barely audible sniff, Snow brushed her tears away and gave the brunette a watery smile. "Okay, change of subject. How are you feeling with the fact you're adopted?"

In the living room, the vampires were immersed in a more confidential matter that consisted of incredibly sensitive information. Since the past five days revolved around Snow, _and only Snow_, barely leaving her side except for when the teenager performed her daily and nightly ablutions, Logan had yet to confide in Stefan of his and Damon's startling discovery…_until now_.

"Are you _certain_ it's Stanley Silverstone?" hesitant to believe the disclosure, Stefan repeated himself for the third time; what with Elena wanting to find her birth parents and now Snow's _supposedly dead _father surfacing, not to mention the company of three vampires Logan briefly spoke of, one of which Stefan was _positive_, was stalking his girlfriend, Damon's revelation of twenty-seven vampires desiccated in the tomb and his simultaneous obsession with getting Katherine out, _and_ an assassin running amok in Mystic Falls… to put it bluntly, they had a lot on their plates, and they needed to be a hundred percent sure before opening that certain door. They didn't need to invite more trouble, _thank you very much_.

Logan responded with a deadpanned look. "I'm _positive_. Stefan, I've witnessed his signature dozens of times and his ridiculous chicken scratch. Trust me, Stanley. _is._ _alive_!" he exclaimed in a forlorn tone, "Don't ask me how, but _obviously_ he faked his death… Now there are two reasons someone would go through such a process: either he was in danger, or, as much as I hate to say it, he no longer wanted Snow in his life." His expression grim, Logan pointed out, "I, for one, prefer the first option."

"_Or perhaps_-" Stefan added pensively, "-Snow's life was in danger and this was the only choice he could think of." Resolute with the third reason he had come up with, he leaned forward, "Think about it, it makes sense. I mean, eight years he's presumed dead and all of a sudden he barges into town and donates blood to save her life. If he doesn't care about Snow, then why bother making the trip back and risk blowing his cover? He knew the possibility was high that someone might recognize him."

Finding holes in Stefan's theory, Logan pointed out, "Yeah, but if Snow's in danger, how does faking her death keep her safe? Fact is, right now, Snow _is_ in danger, and hypothetically, I can see how faking _her_ death would protect _her_ but…" He trailed off with a one-shouldered shrug and drained back his beer. Huffing out an exasperated breath, Stefan mimicked Logan and tossed away his bottle as the latter returned with two more bottles.

"Bottoms up!" Logan saluted, raising his bottle and taking a large swig, Stefan mirroring him. Wiping his beer-stained lips with the back of his hand, Logan emitted an "_mmhpphmm_" noise with a mouthful of beer that aptly described a 'Eureka' moment, "_Another_ _thing_, how in _the_ ever-loving _Hell_ did Stanley know about Snow's condition? Wherever he was, I doubt he was _anywhere near _Mystic Falls—"

"He must have been notified the moment she got attacked," Stefan interjected, forest green eyes widening in shock and visage dawning with realization. Logan scoffed out a mirthless laugh, "I don't know 'bout you, Stef, but I smell a witch and she _fucking _reeks!" The usually laidback and mischievous man currently possessed an emotionless expression and hard, flinty eyes as another realization slammed into him with the full-force of a _mother-effin'_ tank – for the past two months, a thought had been niggling at his mind, constantly wondering why a coven of powerful witches were concerned and wholly invested in Snow's continued survival; it wasn't a farfetched thought that _they _weren't… that _Stanley Silverstone_ was.

_Could it be_? Could Stanley have enlisted them to protect his daughter which ultimately led Sophie to him on that fateful night? Had he unwittingly returned to fulfill his duty as a godfather through Stanley's clever orchestration, all while he remained in the background, pulling the strings…

Lips compressed, Stefan, in slow motion, nodded his agreement, "He must have asked a witch to keep an eye on her. The only witches in Mystic Falls are the Bennetts. Bonnie's clueless, which leaves Sheila."

Honest to _God_, Stefan's head was about to burst with the incessant addition of _unbelievable _newfound knowledge. …_Seriously_, what was _with_ the parents in Mystic Falls? Their drama almost surpassed that of their children's.

"I had high hopes of unearthing everything before I told Snow, but I've hit a wall. A brick one!" Obviously frustrated, Logan took a larger swig from his bottle, a deep golden trail cascading down the corner of his lips as a result of his haste. "I want our foundation to be built on trust, I'm not gonna start by keeping something this big from her." Dragging a hand through his hair, he let loose a long-drawn-out breath, "I'm going to let her know tomorrow. Tonight, I want her to enjoy the dance with her friends, be a damn teenager for once."

A smile flickered on Stefan's face, "You're good to her."

Raising his beer in another mock salute, Logan admitted, his tone solemn, "She's all I got left. Contrary to popular belief, while I still do love Jenna, I didn't come back for her. Miranda was Snow's godmother, so I entrusted her and Grayson with her, ditched town and convinced myself into a forced state of peace of mind, adamant she was better off with the Gilberts as role models. But now that they're _gone_, she needs someone to look after her, least 'til she's eighteen. Or twenty-one if she lets me. And I do _not_ trust that hag carrying around the Silverstone name like she's a part of the family." An ugly, malicious shadow settled on Logan's face at the mere mention of Lucille.

Leaning forward, Stefan clinked the neck of his bottle with Logan's, "I don't either." He then grimaced, "From what I've heard, she treats Snow like a servant. I don't see the appeal of that…_woman_."

A winsome grin brightened the handsome journalist's face and he let out a cheerful "_Aha!_" before tipping the rim of the bottle to his lips, "_Amen, brother_!"

* * *

Brushing his knuckles against the door in a perfunctory knock, Logan entered Snow's newly refurbished bedroom, hazel orbs searching for his goddaughter. Due to the cancellation of Snow's traditional birthday dinner, what with her having spent her seventeenth birthday fighting for her life in an operating room, everybody pooled in their efforts to create Snow a gorgeous, comfortable bedroom; a safe haven – something the young girl never possessed.

Carol Lockwood and Caroline Forbes in particular were completely invested in making the room the definition of perfection, and together they worked like a couple of deranged women possessed. The men did the heavy lifting while the girls decorated – excluding the aforementioned deranged duo who barked orders around. In the end, the result was worth all the trouble and the large dose of Carol Lockwood at the sight of happy tears shining through Snow's violet orbs, her face radiating with exuberance.

Airy and bright, the room was spacious and modern with a tall ceiling, the color scheme a soft blend of lavender, cream and beige and thus, exuded warmth and comfort. A comfortable queen-sized platform bed was backed into an upholstered accent wall in cream flanked by a bookshelf and a matching nightstand table, and deep purple tufted ottomans decorated the room, one of which sat before the vanity table. A reading nook had been installed by the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the idyllic garden and the picturesque neighborhood, the drapes a deep purple. Also, simple lights were built into the walls – a design idea that prompted much controversy as Carol insisted on an extravagant chandelier which was immediately shot down by Caroline, Bonnie, and Elena, the three of whom knew Snow preferred simplicity as opposed to anything unnecessarily ostentatious. The room's furniture was light wood and the flooring a subtle shade darker. In the middle of the room, a large lush rug, its color a sophisticated cream, was laid out, and a vintage-looking fourteen-drawer dresser, each of which possessed antique bronze knobs, in light wood was backed to the wall, a floor-to-ceiling mirror to its right. Lastly, the room contained a walk-in closet and an adjoining bathroom.

"Jellybean?" he called out, voice permeating the empty room.

Living with a vampire was tantamount to a life without privacy. Due to his enhanced senses, Logan easily heard her rummaging through her room, mumbling noncommittally under her breath before she sequestered herself in her bathroom with a petulant huff. Immediately afterwards, he discerned her sniffling. Wanting to give Snow some semblance of privacy, Logan waited a short while before making his way to her room. "What's wrong?" he asked the moment she emerged from the bathroom, tearstains on her face.

Snow let out a wet chuckle. "I don't think I'm gonna go tonight. Because of…recent events-" and wasn't that a tame way of saying "because of my near-death experience", "-I didn't have time to get a dress. I-I've nothing to wear…" she trailed off sadly.

Knowing from her friends that Snow _lived _and _breathed_ for the decade dances, the only events the high school threw that she looked forward to, he was glad he had taken Caroline's advice, the vivacious blonde truly an amazing friend and a life-saver. Approaching his goddaughter, Logan wiped the last traces of wetness with the pads of his thumbs and smiled, "Did you honestly think I'd have let you attend the dance with nothing to wear?"

Before Snow could process the meaning behind his words, he disappeared and promptly reappeared in front of her, two rectangular parcels in hand and he gently placed them on the bed.

Upon opening the larger parcel, her lips parted in shock and she lifted a hand to cover them. A beautiful knee-length, halter-necked red skater dress decorated with white polka dots was neatly folded within. "U-Uncle Logan, you-, you shouldn't have," stuttering in awe, her voice faint, Snow couldn't help but stare at the vampire in gratitude, her gorgeous eyes now sparkling with joy.

"Like I said before, Snow, I'm _here_ now and I'm going to take care of you. Meaning, if Lucille won't be providing you with anything you need, you come to me and I will." A thoughtful crease suddenly formed between his brows, "Which reminds me, I want you to quit your job at the Grill. You won't be needing cash anymore." His tone was firm and unyielding, conveying how serious he was regarding this certain topic. Snow was a rich heiress of an influential family, she shouldn't have been cleaning after sloppy customers and serving them food _in the first place_ – yet another black mark against Lucille.

She couldn't believe her ears. Snow felt like she was living a dream right out of the pages from her favorite fairy tales. Forget having a fairy godmother, Snow Silverstone had the best godfather in the world, and she thanked her dearly departed mother for choosing Logan Fell as her best friend and for trusting her future happiness and guardianship with him, regardless of the amount of time it took for the newly-turned vampire to wake up from his haze of bachelorhood and take up responsibility of her.

Having learned to rely on herself, for as long as she could remember – even when her father was alive – Snow took care of herself and her needs. To have somebody in her life now, relinquishing her of the role she adjusted to long ago, it made Snow tremble with shock, "I can't ask that from you, you being in my life is _more_ than enough."

But Logan wouldn't budge, "I'm offering, Jellybean. Nothing would make me happier." His lips curled into a mirthful smile, "I must say, I've never begged a lady to let me take care of them but I would be _greatly honored_ if you'd be my first. Let me take care of you, _please_?"

Giggling buoyantly, Snow gestured an agreement and threw her arms around him. Pecking the top of her head, he reached out for the second parcel and handed it over, "Come on. Open it." She gasped in awe; inside was a pair of white T-strap wedges, delicate beads cascading on one side. "Thank you, Uncle Logan," profound love laced her tone.

* * *

For the first time in…_ever_, Snow got to experience being dropped off to a high school dance by a parental figure, and her heart swelled to the extent it could've exploded from sheer happiness.

Parting from Logan, Snow skipped off to join Caroline and Bonnie by the edge of the self-created dance floor, each step zinging with jubilance. Greeting them with beaming smiles and complimenting each other on their respective outfits, violet eyes instantly sought out the remaining quarter of their quartet, a fond smile curving her lips the moment they landed on the gorgeous couple, Stefan dipping a joyful Elena without warning. "I want that," she murmured wistfully to herself.

Across the room, Damon, having instantly taken note of Logan's arrival, abruptly cut short his conversation with Alaric Saltzman, the suspicious history teacher who asked _way too many_ questions for his liking, and made his way toward him. "Logan," he greeted laconically through gritted teeth, his jaw taut, obviously not having recovered from the nuisance that hit him whenever he stood within close proximity to the new vampire.

Hazels collided with electric-blues, and the former vampire smirked much like the cat that caught the canary. His tone mischievous and containing a singsong lilt, he responded, "And _there's_ my favorite psychopathic V.F.F.!"

"_V.F.F._?"

Smirk not wavering for even a second, Logan patted Damon's chest with the back of his hand, and with much relish, revealed, "_Vampire Friend Forever_, keep up, would ya?" Chuckling at the expression of pure rage on the older vampire's face, Logan fixed the lapels of his suit, completely unbothered, "Anyways, what can I do for you? I'm assuming you didn't come over for a touching tête-à-tête."

"If I could avoid you for the rest of eternity, trust me, I would," he sneered. Exhaling through his nose, Damon summoned up a bit of patience and imparted a crucial piece of knowledge, a forced smile plastered on his face, "Just giving a heads up, _dick_. The vampire stalking Elena might make an appearance here."

Like the speed of light, Logan's head whipped around to face Damon, his neck cricking in the process before his hazel eyes frantically searched the crowd for Snow, his entire posture relaxing when he saw her laughing with her friends. "_Speak_," he growled, dangerously solemn.

Despite the hardness of his eyes, there was a quirk to Damon's lips, "Posed as a pizza delivery guy last night. He's been invited in, so _naturally_, Saint Stefan says we have to kill him."

"_Huh_." Logan let out a low, long-drawn whistle, an eyebrow tipped upward, grudgingly impressed. His intent gaze fixated on Snow, he chuckled, his infamous grin coloring his lips, "Well, he gets points for creativity-" Damon blanched at the comment, inwardly _irritated_ at the further proof they were _somewhat_ alike, him having said something similar to Stefan and Elena. Shaking his head, Logan continued, "Seriously though, those Gilbert kids gotta learn vampire protocol. The art of silent invitation, just wordlessly open the _damn _door. Weed out the vampires."

Sarcasm hugging each and every word, Damon sneered, "Well not everyone can be as smart as you?"

Chuckling good-naturedly, Logan raised his glass of punch in the air, "_Clearly_."

At that moment however, a snide yet familiar voice interrupted their battle of wits, "Logan Fell, I can_not_ believe you _actually _stuck around. I honestly expected you'd have ditched town by now."

Turning to squarely meet his ex-girlfriend's furious pair of hazel eyes, Logan donned his most dangerous, most notorious smirk he possessed in his arsenal. It was panty-dropping, it was orgasm-inducing, it had the ability to enthrall, and it was downright sinful. It had the ability to lure any woman he desired in the span of a heartbeat. It was purely Logan Fell, patented by him and _only him_. In fact, once that special smirk graced his appealing lips, _nobody_ was immune to their effects. It was the same smirk that lured Jenna into his web and into his bed. It was the smirk that got Jenna Sommers addicted to him. It was the same smirk that forced her to run away from Mystic Falls after he cheated on her with Monica Grace in her desperate attempt to keep her dignity intact as she _knew_, oh _Jenna knew_ that, one look at that smirk and she'd be putty in his hands, shamefully forgiving him for his infidelity and returning to him.

Fortunately for Jenna, she had managed to achieve some form of immunity from that illegal smirk and so, she stood her ground, glaring at him, taking advantage of her rage to escape his allure. Unfortunately for her however, Logan's new and improved vision detected the faint flush of her cheeks and the extremely subtle glint of lust in her eyes.

"Jenna _babe_, always a _pleasure_," he drawled, his voice resembling molten chocolate and his eyes darkened, nostrils simultaneously flaring at the faint smell of her lust; too bad for Jenna, while before she would have succeeded in hiding the effects he had on her, that option was no longer available to her. Perhaps being a vampire wasn't _so bad_ after all. "I came back for Snow as you are _already_ aware. I'm sure Elena informed you of the afternoon she spent in my humble abode," he dropped his patented Logan Fell smirk to give her a mischievous grin.

Damon was torn between laughing and glaring – laughing because he instantly comprehended the mischief and mayhem Logan was brewing, and glaring because _damn it_, he could see himself actually liking the irritating vampire. Also, a concealed part within him envied Logan and his innate devil may care persona, unused to anyone surpassing him in the lady's man department. _Seriously though_, if he were attracted to men, that smirk would have won him over in a heartbeat, a fact that rankled.

Mouth agape, the fury in Jenna's eyes morphed into shock. "What? No, she, she _didn't_ tell me. Why-, _why_ would Elena be at _your_ place?" she snapped, disapproval written all over her features and her stance.

Deciding to intrude, Damon stage whispered, "Snow's spending the week at Logan's."

"_Yep_," Logan emphasized, popping the 'p' for good measure and taking a sip from the – _he winced_ – disgusting spiked punch. '_Jesus, don't kids have access to the good alcohol anymore?_' he mentally stated his disgust. "You remember the bedroom we all worked _tirelessly_ over for _my goddaughter_, don't you, Jenny?" he chuckled huskily.

Splotches of angry pink peppering her flushed cheeks, Jenna snapped, "_Don't _call me that!" Logan merely responded by raising both hands up, palms facing her in surrender, though his expression belied the gesture. Standing to her full height, her chest puffed out, Jenna glared daggers at her ex-boyfriend and his _annoyingly_ charming and devastatingly gorgeous _stupid face_. "I don't like my niece spending time around _you_. And for that matter, Snow deserves better than you. Mark my words, you're a bad influence on her and one day _soon_, you'll disappoint her like you did everyone else!" she ranted, grabbing the opportunity to use him as an outlet to all the sadness and shame and heartbreak he put her through throughout the years.

"Just to be clear, when you say 'everyone', really you're alluding to yourself, aren't you," he stated wryly, dumping his drink in the potted plant on Damon's left. In the blink of an eye, any and all signs of mischief, joviality, good humor, and charm were erased from his visage, replaced by a vicious, almost animalistic sneer. Dropping the sense of cordiality he adopted despite her caustic demeanor and quelling the love and affection he held for the woman before him, he coldly articulated, "I truly do not give _a flying fuck_ what you think or want, Jenna. Snow is _my goddaughter_, you hear me? She's under _my_ _supervision_ till I take my last breath. Selene was my best friend, she entrusted _me_ to keep Snow safe. Better late than never, and I'm here now, that's _all_ that matters. You, _all of you_ _failed_ to protect her from Lucille, it's _my turn_ now; I'm stepping in._ Furthermore_, I'm not gonna let your grudge against me rob my goddaughter of her friends _or _her happiness. Snow will be living with _me_, and if you so much as think of making her uncomfortable or attempt to pit her against me in your selfish desire for revenge because I cheated on you back in high school, I promise I'll make you regret it. _Get over it_, if not for my sake, then for Snow. God knows she's been through so much already."

Resembling a fish flailing out of the body of water it belonged in, Jenna opened her mouth and promptly closed it, devoid of a retort. Lucky for her, Alaric joined them, standing protectively next to Jenna, a warning in his olive orbs. "There a problem here?" he demanded, loosely placing an arm around Jenna's waist.

His gaze flickered to the history teacher and settled on his face in palpable disinterest, subsequently giving him an offhanded once over, the transparency of his act forcing Damon to suppress a bark of laughter and Jenna to shoot him a glare, offended on Alaric's behalf. Hazel orbs capturing Jenna's once more, Logan coldly said, "No. Your girl was just leaving."

Flinching at the coldness of his tone, countenance, expression and in his eyes – the full package really – Jenna never having found herself on the receiving end of Logan Fell's infamous temper, she swallowed the lump from her throat and wordlessly pulled Alaric away.

Letting loose a whistle of surprise, Damon fixated the new vampire with a sidelong glance, "_Whew_. That was harsh. Aren't you in love with her or something…?"

Logan inhaled harshly, his flinty eyes following Jenna and Alaric's interaction. "I do. _God_,I do. But like I mentioned countless times, Snow comes first. Jenna has to trust me on her own terms, and if I keep walking around like I don't give a rat's ass, then no one will ever trust me around Snow," he retorted matter-of-factly. "It's for the best anyway-" he shrugged, absently dragging a hand through his hair, "-let her hate me, or be terrified of me, _whatever_. Let her stick with the teacher, better than being saddled with a vampire," he concluded with a large tablespoon of bitterness in his tone.

Not liking the fact that he was beginning to warm up to Logan Fell, Damon deflected, "The history teacher, _Alaric_ _Saltzman_, I don't trust the guy. I got a fishy vibe from him." As he spoke, his electric-blue orbs bore a searing hole into the aforementioned teacher's back.

"Hmm. Unfortunately, whatever I say can be considered biased, so I'm gonna have to stay out of this one, Spike," Logan huffed, hazel orbs scouring the room for his goddaughter, having lost track of her throughout the spat of the exes.

Electric-blues flashed with annoyance, "_Spike_, _really_?!"

And the smirk reappeared. "Well, you're no Angel, that's for sure," Logan pointed out with a chuckle, his good humor returning with a vengeance at the chance to provoke Damon.

Torn between amusement and indignation, before Damon could counter with a scathing retort, a deeply troubled Stefan interrupted, his eyes wide and frantic, and his following words chilling Logan to the bone, a knot developing in the pit of his stomach, "Elena and Snow are missing and the vampire's around here somewhere! He made a move and managed to trick me."

"Let's go," Damon snarled.

Growling, his sclerae turned a quick red before they returned to their normal white, Logan was already on the move, "_Very soon_, Mystic Falls is gonna be short one vampire."

As Stefan cut into Damon and Logan's bellicose conversation with the dire news of their disappearance, Elena and Snow were busy running through the school's hallway for their lives. Together in solidarity and hands linked in an iron grip, the girls, distraught with fear, attempted to search for a safe area to barricade themselves in, at least until their friendly vampires came to their rescue. Though, on some deep level, Snow and Elena knew, as humans, there was no escaping the predatory species currently snapping at their heels

For a brief moment, gratitude flared through Snow, glad for Logan's forethought and his ceaseless coaxing as, if his blood hadn't healed her, she wouldn't have been capable of performing such strenuous activity and thus, undoubtedly would have held Elena back, consequently becoming a vampire's dinner. As quick as the thought struck her, fear followed, encompassing the raven-haired girl, terrified the blood had yet to leave her system and therefore increasing her chances of becoming an eternal creature of the night.

Snapped out of her inner thoughts by Elena's hand getting ripped out of her tight grip, Snow ejected a piercing scream when her best friend was hurled across the cafeteria and over a table. Looking around frantically, Snow itched with the desire to _do something_; she couldn't just stay rooted to her spot like an utter moron, Elena _needed_ her help…

Just as Snow moved to join Elena's side, a sharp inhale left her at the prickles of pain in her abdomen and then hand, which strange enough, coincided with Elena defiantly shoving a pencil into the vampire's respective areas. Ignoring the unexplained oddity, desperate violet eyes scanned the room, almost immediately landing on a mop. She lunged for it and with a quick call of the brunette's name, threw it into her friend's possession. Grabbing it deftly, Elena brought it to her thigh and broke it in half. Unfortunately, Elena's kickass streak reached an end when she thrust it toward the vampire.

Displaying the fast reflexes of a vampire, he grabbed her hand, firmly stopping its movement and, his fangs emerged, went for her neck.

"_ELENA_!" Running to her friend's aid, Snow's shriek coincided with Elena's scream of utter terror.

Simultaneously, a pair of strong familiar arms she denoted with safety cocooned her, halting her in place, and the vampire was ripped away from Elena before he could bite her, an enraged Stefan shrouding his shaking girlfriend with his menacing form. Turning in the safety of her cocoon, relief shone vividly in her eyes at her godfather and though Logan Fell radiated a terrifying brand of murderous rage, his features contorted with apoplectic anger, Snow didn't feel a sliver of fear, nor did she feel intimidated by him.

A beckoning whistle on the other end of the cafeteria redirected her gaze to Damon, his stance, unlike Stefan and Logan, completely laidback. Unconsciously working together like a well-oiled machine, they strategically had the unknown vampire surrounded on all sides, offering him absolutely no hope of escaping unscathed. Lying through his teeth, Damon maintained a lackadaisical front, "Hey, dickhead. Nobody wants to kill you. We just wanna talk."

His body shaking violently in poorly concealed rage, Logan scoffed, his arms tightening a smidge around Snow, "Speak for yourself!" He then turned his glower at the smirking vampire, instantly recognizing him a member from the Three Little Pigs, "Head's up, you're a dead man, bud. No talking your way out of it. So don't even try-" suddenly, a sinister grin overshadowed his menacing appearance, "-or you know what, _please do_. Fight for your life, you pathetic _prick_."

'_Huh_,' Damon thought, raven brows tipping upwards, impressed. '_Apparently Logan is exceptional at provoking vampires into a rage… At least it's not just me._'

The second Logan concluded his degrading provocation, the vampire's cocky visage morphed into pure fury. As the violet-eyed girl smelled unappetizing, her scent reeking of the vampire who had ahold of her, he lunged for Katherine's lookalike, jumping over the table that blocked his path, his true face on full display. The reactions were instantaneous – Logan had a cruel grin of anticipation on his handsome face and Damon rolled his eyes at the vampire's foolishness, promptly tossing the improvised stake Elena fashioned from a mop, at Stefan, who deftly caught it.

It all happened in the blink of an eye, too fast for either Snow or Elena to comprehend. One split-second the unknown vampire was growling in outrage at Logan's words and the next, he had sank to the ground, a stake embedded in his chest courtesy of Stefan.

Snow winced and bit on the inside of her cheeks to stop herself from moaning out in pain. Thankfully, the ache in her chest subsided before anybody could notice her distress, especially Logan who had finally released her from his protective hold to approach the fallen vampire along the Salvatore brothers. Expression one of pure relief, Elena stuck close to Snow's side, their arms looped.

"Now you feel like talkin'?" Stefan snapped, a mocking quality in his tone. However, the vampire retorted by spitting a curse at him, only prompting Stefan to propel the stake deeper. His grunt of pain masked Snow's whimper from those with enhanced hearing, though unfortunately, not from Elena, her head whipping around to scrutinize her in mild confusion. "Why are you doing this?" the younger Salvatore inquired.

Inserting himself, Logan spoke up, "Come on, bud. Like I said, you're already a dead man, talking will make in quick and painless. So, tell us-" his arms were wide open, "-what do you want from Elena?"

Resigned, he spat out, "She looks like Katherine."

The atmosphere in the room changed at the revelatory confession. Dumfounded looks were exchanged and Elena felt like she had been doused in a bucket of iced water. For Snow's part, her head was pounding from the escalating tension in the room.

"You knew Katherine?" Damon demanded sharply.

Chuckling, the vampire mocked him, "Oh. You thought you were the only ones. You don't even remember me."

Clearing his throat, Logan employed an identical mocking tone, "If it's any consolation, I do. You're one of the little piggies trying to get into the tomb. Sorry if I went off-script, _bud_." Sarcasm at its finest, a smirk graced his face and the surrounded vampire growled – he had a feeling the plan to turn a Fell into a vampire would later come to bite them in the ass, but _she_ stubbornly insisted it would benefit them, and in the end, Logan Fell went and allied himself with the Salvatores, and all because of one _slip of a girl_.

Leaning forward, Damon masked his desperation and, in a would-be casual, yet menacing tone, asked, "Tell me how to get into the tomb?"

Naturally, getting the truth out of the vampire wasn't easy. It took much persuasion through the infliction of a lot of pain, but every time he gave them something, it remained vague and incomplete, him obviously loyal to whomever he was working with. In the meantime, Elena's confusion skyrocketed at her friend's reaction to the torture, eventually chalking it off as Snow's compassion incapable of watching anyone in pain. Finally, the vampire revealed the key to opening the tomb would be located in a grimoire which could be found through Johnathan Gilbert's journal.

"Sucks to be you, buddy," Logan mockingly clicked his tongue. Gesturing at the stake with his chin, he addressed Stefan, "Since he's been psychologically tormenting your girl for days, I think it's only fair you do the honors."

Without any fanfare, Stefan ripped out the stake and, just as the vampire exhaled a short breath of reprieve, he forcefully plunged it straight into his heart, easily slicing through bone, muscle, tissue and fluid, effectively killing the vampire. Twice before Snow experienced such relentless excruciating agony, falsely conjecturing it was due to the bonds she had with Vicki and Lexi. _Apparently not… _Eyes slamming shut in anguish, Snow's feet wavered and she almost lost balance, the deep abyss threatening to consume her whole. Luckily, Snow took the precaution to clamp her hand over her mouth, muffling whatever painful sounds she involuntarily ejected. A multitude of blinking later, the unbearable sensation released her from its paralyzing grip and she finally opened her eyes.

Still under the misconception she previously arrived at, Elena sympathetically rubbed circles around Snow's back and addressed the others, "What do we… How are we gonna find the others now?"

"He had to die," an apathetic Damon stated bluntly.

A crease of sorrow was introduced to Snow's otherworldly visage, "But–"

Capable of compassion, Logan placed a hand on each girl's shoulder, expression kind and tone soft, "Girls, he was _invited_ in. We didn't have much of a choice. Besides, he was a threat to you, Elena, and he wasn't going to stop, not of his own volition." His admission vanquished the mountain of guilt that sat on her conscience, and Elena nodded, the relief vivid in her soft orbs. Logan then turned to gauge Snow's downcast mien, entrancing hazel orbs bright with a mixture of concern and suspicion; contrary to Snow's belief, he _had_, in fact, noticed her many winces and flinches throughout the duration of their 'interrogation', though he had to give her points for effort, if he wasn't a vampire, from where he stood he wouldn't have noticed her discomfort.

Sighing inwardly, Logan decided to practice patience and wait for her to come to him on her own time.

* * *

Tongue coated with venom, a harsh voice spat down the phone with much vitriol, "You _idiot!_ You good for nothing, useless, _spineless _failure!"

In a dark room, a brawny, barrel-chested man was splayed comfortably on his futon, the only source of light being a lamp on the console table. Upon hearing the many slights against him, he growled into the phone, "What are you on about!?"

"Snow Silverstone is _alive_. You have _failed_ me!" the voice sneered.

Shock the main emotion on his face, the bullnecked man spat out, "That's impossible! I got rid of all the blood and dumped her in the river for dead. There's absolutely no way—"

His pathetic justifications were interrupted, the person on the other end infuriated, "God fucking favors her apparently; a miracle shone on that _bitch_! And _where were you_? I hired you to kill her you _utter_ _moron_! You should have stayed close by as a precautionary measure!"

Repeating himself yet again, "I emptied the hospital of all the O negatives and erased their backup files as a backup plan, there's no fucking way she could have survived that!" Suffice to say, the hitman was _not_ the brightest bulb in the box, him being good at assassinating purely because of his physical strength – the expression, "_all brawn no brain_" describing him to a T.

"SHE'S ALIVE!" Wincing, the hitman was forced to rip his phone from his ear, lest his eardrums got shattered. "You better think of a smarter plan, Alejandro! I want her dead, _and soon_, or else you can kiss every single penny I gave you goodbye!"

Huffing, Alejandro shuffled to the kitchen and withdrew a longneck from the refrigerator, "Okay, okay. Consider it done, just relax, would you."

"This is your last chance, Alejandro." And before the line ended, the voice snarled into his ear, "Don't forget, you're _expendable_, I can _easily_ have you replaced. _Don't. fail. me!_"

Growling, the hitman slammed his phone into the table, smashing it. Downing the alcoholic beverage in one go, he proceeded to formulate another murder plot, ensuring Snow Silverstone wouldn't be able to walk away with her life.

* * *

"_**You really should go home, rest, get a clean change of clothes. I'm in the ICU, stuck in bed rest. Nothing's gonna get me here.**_**" **_**– **__**Snow Silverstone**_

"_**Snow does know where we get blood bags from, right? I mean, she can't be that naïve, can she?**_**" **_**– **__**Damon Salvatore**_

_**Caroline Forbes:**_** "**_**Hawaii?! Right, how can I have forgotten. You know, the first time Lucille and the twins came back from there, I was honest to god surprised. I never expected them to come back, I thought for sure Lucille would have melted.**_**" **_**Bonnie Bennett:**_** "**_**Uh, Care… The Wicked Witch of the West melted from "water" not "sunlight," you know that, right…**_**" **_**Caroline Forbes:**_** "**_**Who cares! Bottom line, she's a witch and deserves to drown!**_**"**

"_**You're after it, aren't you? The thing that killed Mom.**_**" **_**– **__**Sam Winchester**_

"_**Listen, Sammy, I also know what happened to your girlfriend. I'm so sorry. I would've done anything to protect you from that.**_**" **_**– **__**John Winchester**_

_**Caroline Forbes:**_** "**_**Oh my God. Logan Fell, channel 9, is that you?**_**" **_**Logan Fell:**_** "**_**I used to babysit you, Caroline Forbes. Don't mock me.**_**"**

"_**I have given you an order. Now, you stop following me, and you do your job. You understand me?**_**" **_**– **__**John Winchester**_

"_**Mystic Falls has been infected by one…**_**" **_**– **__**Sheila Bennett**_

"_**Alright people! We have a lot of work to do and not enough time to do it. Get to work!**_**" **_**– **__**Carol Lockwood**_

"_**Carol Lockwood and Caroline Forbes bossing us around… Guess it was nice knowing you guys.**_**" **_** – **__**Elena Gilbert**_

"_**Dean, if this demon killed Mom and Jess, and Dad's closing in, we've gotta be there. We've gotta help.**_**" **_**– **__**Sam Winchester**_

"_**I swear, if this wasn't for Snow, I'd've walked away like, four days ago.**_**" **_**– **__**Tyler Lockwood**_

"_**Dad is asking us to work jobs, to save lives, it's important.**_**" **_**– **__**Dean Winchester**_

"_**Rich, I got a free pass. Gotta keep Snow company. Good luck.**_**" **_**– **__**Logan Fell**_

_**Sam Winchester:**_** "**_**I don't understand the blind faith you have in the man. I mean, it's like you don't even question him.**_**" **_**Dean Winchester:**_** "**_**Yeah, it's called being a good son! …You're a selfish bastard, you know that? You just do whatever you want. Don't care what anybody thinks.**_**"**

"_**You're running back to your brother? The guy you ran away from? Why, because he won't pick up his phone?**_**" **_**– **__**Meg**_

"_**He's my family.**_**" **_** – **__**Sam Winchester**_

"_**I brought some vervain for, um- for you and Jenna. And, um, I made this bracelet for Jeremy, few extra ones for friends. Logan got Snow covered. You can put it in jewelry, or you can even put it in food or drink, but as long as it's in you or on you, a vampire cannot control you.**_**" **_**– **__**Stefan Salvatore**_

"_**So, we've got a killer in Mystic Falls? What is this, Rosewood?!**_**" **_**– **__**Caroline Forbes**_

"_**Logan Fell, the notorious womanizer and Mystic Falls' very own Casanova, babysitting four teenage girls? Have we entered an alternate universe or something?**_**" **_**– **__**Carol Lockwood**_

_**Stefan Salvatore:**_** "**_**I get it. You're just bitter because one of us gets to be with the person that we love, and poor Katherine is just out of reach. Unless there's another way for you to get into that tomb. Is that what Bree said?**_**" **_**Damon Salvatore:**_** "**_**You're pathetic when you're fishing.**_**" **_**Stefan Salvatore:**_** "**_**And you're transparent when you're deflecting.**_**"**

"_**A first-person account of the Civil War? That's like, uh, porn for a history teacher.**_**" **_**– **__**Alaric Saltzman**_

"_**I'm with Stefan now. Matt understands that. He knows he has to move on.**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert**_

"_**You know, I can start fires with my mind. Fires kill vampires, right?**_**" **_**– **__**Bonnie Bennett**_

"_**That's because we're predators, Elena. We hunt. We stalk. It's often as exciting as the kill.**_**" **_**– **__**Stefan Salvatore**_

"_**I don't think it's fair for Jenna to hate Logan. I mean, technically, he died. He didn't actually ditch town on her.**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert**_

"_**Your Dad was about to leave the office one night when this girl showed up. She was sixteen, a runaway, and about to give birth. He delivered her baby, and he gave her a place to stay, but a few days later, she disappeared. And there you were. Your parents were trying so hard to have a baby. It just wasn't happening. All Miranda ever wanted was to be a Mom.**_**" **_**– **__**Jenna Sommers**_

"_**I'll do anything to get you out of this town, even release Katherine.**_**" **_**– **__**Stefan Salvatore**_

"_**Why do I have to tell Logan? I don't even like the guy!**_**" **_**– **__**Damon Salvatore**_

"_**So… one complication from 1864's gone. Noah. Thank God. He was a sleaze. But I hear a Fell got turned… call my interest piqued.**_**" **_**– **__**Katherine Pierce**_

"_**She survived the dance unscathed. But we really have to do something about the ever-growing vampire population. And with Damon Salvatore sniffing around for a way to open that damn tomb, and two Bennetts right under his nose, it's only a matter of time before they're all out.**_**" **_**– **__**John Gilbert**_

"_**I still wanna find Dad. And you're still a pain in the ass. But, Jess and Mom-, they're both gone. Dad is God knows where. You and me. We're all that's left. So, if we're gonna see this through, we're gonna do it together.**_**" **_**– **__**Sam Winchester**_

"_**Uncle Logan… I feel like I'm living a dream, one I don't ever want to wake up from. I guess, what I'm trying to say is…Thank you. For, for coming into my life and changing it.**_**" **_**– **__**Snow Silverstone**_

"_**Father, there's one loose in a little town in Virginia. Should I check it out?**_**" **_**– **__**Meg**_

"_**I told Damon that I'd help him get into that tomb to get Katherine back. But it was a lie. I let him believe that he could trust me.**_**" **_**– **__**Stefan Salvatore**_

"_**Tell him I received revelation from The Spirits… it's nothing good. Josephine, we're all in danger.**_**" **_**– **__**Sheila Bennett**_

"_**It's gonna take a lot more than just a road trip and a rescue for me to forget who Damon is and everything he's done.**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert**_

"_**Get it out … Get it out … Get it out … GET IT OUT!**_**" **_**– **__**The Spirits**_

* * *

**A/N:**** How did you like this chapter?**

**(1) I wanted to finally show Snow/Logan bonding time. Aren't they adorable!? …I don't know about y'all, but I always loved Logan and hated his fate, I mean, one would think since he's from the founding families he'd have a bit more restraint… no? I think he fits in well with the Salvatores.**

**(2) Speaking of which, I enjoy writing the interaction between Logan and Damon. I'd always plan them to be short, but once I start, I get carried away. Writing Logan, period!, gets me carried away. This was a Logan-centric chapter – Logan/Snow, Logan/Lucille, Logan/Stefan, Logan/Damon, Logan/Jenna. **_**Whew!**_** But he's definitely a main character, and since he's the guardian of my OC, he'll be popping up, a lot! And I have so many plans for him. When I imagine Logan Fell, since I claimed his celebrity face Wilson Bethel, I get the Wade Kinsella vibe from him, so Logan's a mixture of my creation and a bit of Wade.**

**(3) What do you think about the plot revolving around Snow? I'm trying to deviate from Canon, and with a lot of TVD stories underway, my aim is to make each and every one of them unique. So yeah, there's a lot of mystery revolving around Snow Silverstone. And her father? Still a surprise!**

**(4) Some might be disappointed with my portrayal of Jenna in this chapter. I've two things to say: first of all, this is not a Jenna bashing story. I've mentioned this point before, because of Snow's character, bashing will be rare and kept to a minimum. Except probably for a certain few characters… but that's for later. Second of all, I'm a bit biased when it comes to Logan Fell – I adore him! And I adore my portrayal for him even more. So naturally, I'll keep defending him. But no, both Logan and Jenna have a point. For Logan, he was a player and still is an eligible bachelor – he's sexy and charming and a lady's man, but he's also trying to fix his wrongs and be a parent to Snow, so he cannot fix his past mistakes but try for the future; but in no uncertain terms does this mean he'll be some boring goodie-two-shoes. He's still Logan Fell, lady's man extraordinaire, he's just more responsible and smarter. Jenna on the other hand, is hurt – she loved Logan, they were high school sweethearts and he cheated on her, she ran away from Mystic Falls and when they finally reunite he 'skips town on her'; so naturally, she'd be hurt and vent at him, but her lashing out by bringing Snow crossed a major line for Logan.**

**(5) SPN Timeline: Scarecrow, complete!**

**Please share some feedback. I'd love to read your thoughts now that we're going through a major divergence from Canon. And please, if you're planning on giving me feedback that relates to updating my other stories, I do not need a reminder. None of them are abandoned!**

**R&R.**


	14. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer:**** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters, ideas and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

_**CHAPTER 13:**_

**WHAT HAPPENED TO MARY?**

* * *

**Abandon (**_**verb**_**): cease to support or look after someone; desert**

"_**Absence is a house so vast that inside you will pass through its walls and hang pictures on the air.**_**"**

"'_**Harry, I'm sure James would have wanted me to stick with you.' … 'Well,' said Harry slowly, 'I'm not. I'm pretty sure my father would have wanted to know why you aren't sticking with your own kid, actually.'**_**"**

"_**I hate the way you're not around, and the fact that you didn't call. But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you, not even close, not even a little. Not even at all.**_**"**

"_**God knows what is hiding in this world of little consequence, behind the tears, inside the lies, a thousand slowly dying sunsets.**_**"**

"_**Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanic potestas, omnis incursion infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregation et secta diabolica.**_**"**

* * *

Bit by bit, Snow was growing accustomed to the pampering associated with being a teenager, the mere possibility of indulging in _anything_ a forbidden act in her case, even the minor necessities of everyday life, thus decreed by Lucille Silverstone. For the past week, she had been under the watchful care of her newly discovered and recently emerged godfather, and regardless of the initial days of bed rest in the Intensive Care Unit, and the remaining days spent with her friends in a marathon sleepover, Logan and Snow managed to bond and while it might be considered too soon, she loved him dearly and irrevocably, wholly incapable of imagining the rest of her life without him in it.

Waking up, her feet sore and blistered, a consequence of spending the night dancing in heels and concluding it by running away from a maniac predator with stalkerish tendencies – _also in heels_, the heavenly aroma of the very delicacies she was prohibited from indulging in wafted into her bedroom through the crack under her door, attacking her olfactory receptors. Violet orbs popping open, no longer hazy with sleep, Snow jumped out of bed and, her feet bare, padded out of her room, down the hall and into the kitchen, shock perpetually etched on her face and clad in well-worn checkered pajamas – a 'gift' from Lucille who had, one day two years ago, hurled it at her face, claiming it cost her a "_pretty penny at the thrift store_" and "_I expect it to last you till I no longer have to see your face again!_"

"Un-Uncle Logan, what's all this?"

Turning around, having heard her hesitant approach yet sticking to the partial vow he made to himself to give her some semblance of privacy and normalcy, Logan, barefoot and dressed comfortably in grey sweatpants and a white wife-beater shirt, grinned widely at the dark-haired, violet-eyed seventeen-year-old, "Pretty sure it's breakfast, Jellybean."

Her wide eyes traveled the length of the kitchen. There were rashers of bacon sizzling and spitting on a medium-sized pan over the stove, an open carton of eggs on the counter, and a bowl almost filled to the brim with pancake batter. Furthermore, a bottle of orange and mango juice sat on the cypress kitchen island's quartz countertop, along with a carafe of water. On the other side of the spacious kitchen, the electric coffee maker emitted bubbling sounds.

Head shaking mutely, Snow was just about to insist that _she_ was responsible for preparing breakfast, the words on the tip of her tongue, when Logan absentmindedly inquired, "How'd you take your eggs?" And that inquiry brought her up short, prompting her to still in bemused realization, absolutely rendered speechless by her unexpected epiphany. A beat passed, then another… and another. In an excruciatingly slow motion, a crease marred Logan's smooth handsome face and a collection of furrows crowded his forehead, awareness slamming into him with the full force of a stampeding rhinoceros. His body going through the motions, Logan numbly turned the knob, cutting off the gas and prompting the cacophonous sizzling of rashers to vaporize. A desperate plea in the undercurrent of his even voice, Logan hesitantly inquired, as though terrified of the answer, "You've never had eggs for breakfast?"

Cheeks flushed in an overpowering combination of shame and mortification, she clasped her hands to her front and lowered her gaze, her toes wiggling in discomfort. Suddenly, warm hands cupped her flamed cheeks and her head got tilted upward until watery violets met a pair of pained hazels. Maintaining silence, Logan patiently waited for her confession. "I-I've never actually had a proper breakfast before," she whispered, each and every regurgitated word a blow to his gut. "I mean, I'm responsible for cooking Lucille and the twins' meals and-, I, well, I'm only allowed an apple or a banana on my way out…" Trailing off at the sorrow, anguish and unmistakable guilt her words evoked on her godfather's face, she quickly endeavored to cheer him up, "But when I sleep over at Elena's, Caroline's or Bonnie's I have toast and coffee-" That didn't work. Mending her blunder, she rushed out, a slight hitch in her voice, "'C-Cause they ban me from cooking and Jenna can't cook to save a life a-and, Aunt Liz's always at work so it's just me and Care, a-and M-Mr. Hopkins travels, _like a lot_, and G-Grams—"

"Alright, I get it, that's, that's enough, Snow. That's enough." Releasing her, Logan buried his face into the palms of his hands, self-loathing emanating from his every pore. _God_… his goddaughter was treated like a slave! The very essentials of life, like the taste of food, were a _complete _mystery to her. Lucille Silverstone deserved a much worse fate than he had initially planned – once he was done with that _hag_, she'd be _screaming for death_, but it would be a cold day in Hell before Logan Fell allowed that woman mercy. Not from him. _Never from him_!

However, disregarding the sins of Lucille and her daughters, Logan found himself despising Stanley Silverstone. Irregardless of his reasons, he should have ensured Snow's safety in Mystic Falls, her happiness, her living conditions… he should _never_ have chosen Lucille Styne; out of all the women in existence, to this day, Logan couldn't comprehend _what the ever lovin'_ _fuck_ he saw in her that made her worthy of nurturing Snow – that woman didn't have a motherly bone in her body, _at least_ not to Snow. Furthermore, he could admit that he wasn't devoid of any blame; Logan blamed himself and every single adult in this danger-infested town, they all grew up together, babysat each other's children, and therefore were equally responsible for ensuring Snow was well taken care of. But…_what's done is done_, there was no changing the past. All Logan can do was look to the future and stop beating himself up over his errors.

Determination coursing through him, Logan pulled himself together and forced a reassuring smile on his face. "I tell you what, Snow. How bout we experiment, hmm? I'll make you scrambled and tomorrow, we'll try something new, see which you prefer, yeah?"

Timidly, Snow nodded, "You're, you're not mad at me?"

Horror coating his features, he emphatically shook his head and drew her into a hug, tenderly stroking her hair, "Never." Pulling her back, hands on each shoulder, he squarely met her gaze, "But, we need to go over house rules. First and foremost, everything you were used to at the Manor, we do differently here. Now go take a shower, get out of these ratty pajamas and we'll have breakfast together, 'kay?"

Enjoying a _warm!_ shower, Snow allowed herself to soak in the deluge of positive emotions vibrating through her. Admittedly, the next few days, maybe even weeks, would be a trial; she had grown accustomed to a life of servitude, submitting to her step-monster's every demand and falling prey to her evil stepsisters' cruelty. Now, with Logan, she would be beginning a brand new life – no more waking up at the crack of dawn to clean the house from top to bottom, no more slaving over meals and washing after them, her only form of sustenance measly scraps, no more tiptoeing around the oppressing house terrified that one wrong move would earn her a beating and emotional abuse, no more sleeping in uncomfortable beds, no more rushing back home before the clock struck twelve… Basically, she no longer had to suffer through Lucille's tyranny. Her only issue would be breaking out of her conditioning.

Dressed in mom jeans – a social '_no-no_' according to Caroline who never failed to shudder at the sight of those jeans hugging her best friend's lower body – and a plain black tank top, her wet hair lifted in a messy ponytail, Snow joined her godfather in the kitchen and deposited herself on one of the rotating stools that surrounded the island, a luciferous glow to her complexion. Eyeing her outfit in distaste, Logan casually mentioned through spoonfuls of scrambled eggs, "We'll stop by the mall later, buy you a whole new wardrobe. Maybe I'll call Carol. God knows she'll be over the moon at the chance to take you out on a shopping spree." A rueful grin colored his lips, "Then we'll burn your current wardrobe. Light up the fireplace and toss 'em all in. First to go will be that God-_awful_ pajama you changed out of." He performed an exaggerated full-body shiver for comical effect.

"You don't have to. _Really_ it's, it's no trouble. No trouble at all. I _have_ enough clothes." Snow didn't want to be a bother; while she knew it'd _never_ happen, a part of her feared Logan would find her more trouble than she was worth and abandon her. Emitting a long-drawn-out sigh, Logan carefully set his fork and knife down, neatly aligning them on his plate. "I know I don't _have _to, I _want_ to. We gotta work hard on that _hag's_ conditioning," he murmured, more to himself than the violet-eyed girl. "Snow, honey, what you've been wearing isn't clothes, especially not befitting the Silverstone Heiress. Okay, you know what-" he waved a hand through the air in effortless nonchalance, "-forget about the social expectations attached to your name. Another house rule, and that's for both of us: we always look our best. So, you're responsible for making sure I don't look like an idiot, just like I'm responsible for ensuring you don't wear rags. We both look out for each other in this household, yes?"

Deciding to make them equals would have a more positive impact on Snow than simply demanding things out of her and forcing her to obey him – a horrifyingly easy feat based on her subservient nature and kind personality. While his intentions were good and ultimately better off for Snow in the long-run, he didn't want to be a dictator. He never wanted to forcefully take away Snow's choices, to Logan Fell, free will was extremely important.

Mulling over his words, her eyes alight with a hopeful sheen, she slowly inclined her head, "When you put it that way, I guess it makes sense. Okay." They resumed their breakfast, which was a lovely affair, one of the best meals in Snow's life. Giddily eating, savoring the burst of new flavors on her tongue, the deluge of emotions encompassing her gave her a heady feeling – affection, fondness, happiness, _love_. However, upon finishing up, new sensations assailed her, the annoyance, fear and nervousness generating a dark cloud over her head. Carefully, almost tentatively, Snow searched Logan's smooth expression, "Uncle Logan? What's wrong?"

Logan forced a smile and produced a nervous laugh, "Why would you ask me that, honey? I'm perfectly fine." Skeptical, Snow nevertheless helped him clear out the island and when she moved to rinse the dirty crockery and cutlery, he stilled her with a hand, instantly maneuvering her away from the sink, "How 'bout I wash, you dry." His back to her, guilt marred his features and pervaded the air around Snow.

The washing and drying done, Snow approached him, her movement unsure, fearing rejection. A dainty hand on his shoulder, she prompted their eyes to collide, hazels questioning and clouded with guilt and violets emotional. "I can feel it…_them_. Your emotions, they're, I don't know how to explain it. Each emotion hits me, they come in waves. Nervous, fear, annoyance, even a bit hatred," she ticked them off her fingers, explicitly naming every negative emotion that had been burdening Logan since he had gotten out of bed that morning. "Don't you trust me?" she asked, her insecurity resurging.

"Wait, what? Snow, honey," he shook his head, confusion settling deeply on his visage. "What do you mean, you can fee-" sucking in a sharp intake of breath, Logan's eyes glazed over for a really long moment. And just when Snow's nerves were beginning to get the best of her, his eyes flashed back to her, palpable recognition warring with incredulity. Finally, he released a sharp, "You mean like an _empath_?"

The terminology was completely lost on her. Portraying a lack of eloquence, Snow blurted out, "A-A _what_?"

A hand hovering over the small of her back, Logan led her into the living room and, having her sink into the tufted three-seater sofa, deposited himself right next to her and inclined his body so that he could comfortably achieve eye contact, "In a nutshell, an empath is somebody that can sense the emotional state of others." Noting the color drain from her face, the consternated vampire solemnly asked, "How long have you been able to sense emotions foreign to your own?"

Snow's angelic face scrunched up in contemplation, her index finger tapping against her chin, "Uh, I think a year, maybe _two_…. No, no, definitely two years. But since Uncle Gray and Aunt Randa's dea-, since the _accident_ it's been getting stronger. So, I'm an, an _empath_…" She tested the word on her tongue and at his uncertain nod, Snow's expression grew troubled. "Does that make me a freak?" her voice was small and she squared her shoulders defensively.

Visibly displaying the horror he felt at her inquiry, Logan quickly drew her into an embrace, "Snow, you are not a freak. Never say that. I'm a vampire, so are the Salvatore brothers. Elena's got an evil vampire twin, and Bonnie and her grandmother are witches. Does that make us freaks?" Completely appalled by the analogy, Snow hastened to vocalize a negative. Smiling, he chastely kissed her forehead, "You are gifted, _special_. I didn't even believe empaths existed, till now. Something I'm definitely gonna look into. You're _unique_, Jellybean. Embrace it."

Unbidden, the memory of Bonnie admitting she's a witch in Elena's bedroom reverberated in her head, and she felt ashamed at her hypocrisy. "Thanks, Uncle Logan. So does this mean you're gonna tell me what's been bothering you?"

Logan grimaced. He'd been avoiding this topic for too long. Snow had always been a sharp girl, and with her newfound empathic abilities he knew he could no longer hide the truth about her father any longer. Not only that, but it was unfair to keep it from her. "Snow-, Jellybean, I have something important to tell you. I want you to keep an open mind and not shut me or anyone out."

"You're scaring me," Snow stated, a million thoughts whirring in her head. Logan tucked a strand behind her ear, steeling himself for her subsequent reaction, "After your attack-" she winced at the reminder, "-you needed a blood transfusion, but, honey, your blood type was wiped out from their blood bank. Then, all of a sudden, a mysterious donor appeared out of nowhere and demanded to keep his identity confidential."

Confused, Snow merely bobbed her head as he reiterated the facts she already knew. When Dr. Jeffreys informed her of the miraculous turn of events, she inquired after a name, wanting to pass along her sincerest gratitude to her anonymous donor. "What about it?" she tentatively spoke up, head cocked, not seeing where Logan was going with all this.

Interlacing his hands with both of hers, he proceeded, "Naturally, I grew suspicious. The timing was just too much of a coincidence. So I snuck into Medical Records and, I discovered his identity." Hazels shuttered to a close and after a brief pause, he met her curious gaze, sorrow etched on his handsome features. His next words were ejected in a voice of forced calm, "It was your father, Snow."

Entire form stiffening, Snow felt her brain stutter at the unexpected declaration, every part of her on pause as her thoughts played catch up. Struggling to inhale and exhale, she couldn't remember how to breathe, equally unable to speak, her tongue numb and heavy. Blinking at Logan, who had been softly shaking her for minutes now, attempting and failing to grab her attention, she stared at him with an expression of stunned surprise, barely noticing him. Finally, her mouth desert dry and her throat like sandpaper, she hoarsely whispered, "My Dad is dead."

He didn't bother refuting her, thankful for the disclosure of her fortuitous empath abilities as it would force Snow to accept the truth, refusing to keep her in blissful denial. To the raven-haired girl's distress, the vampire's honesty was as clear as a cloudless sky. Her emotions malfunctioning, the Kübler-Ross Grief Cycle transpired differently; Snow underwent denial and then acceptance before settling on depression – anger and bargaining completely dismissed.

"Why? _Why_ did he abandon me?" she wept, because that was the uncomplicated truth… Stanley Silverstone faked an elaborate death and moved on with his life, abandoning his daughter with a houseful of horrible people and apparently, not looking back once for the duration of eight _long_ years. Her lying on her deathbed spurred him into donating blood, only to abandon her once more. In fact, if it weren't for vampires' uncanny ability to travel undetected and erase memories of their presence, Logan wouldn't have had the opportunity and means to unearth his identity and thus, Snow would have remained in the dark.

And now… _now_ the memories she had of her father were all tarnished.

Keeping her in a long embrace, allowing her to cry into his chest, he carded a hand soothingly through her hair, "I don't know, honey. I've got a lot of theories, but they're all speculation."

For the rest of the day, Snow sequestered herself in her bedroom, unmoving from her reading nook and completely unresponsive to Logan's many attempts to comfort her or cajole her out of her room. Eyes lifeless, spark vanquished, complexion pale, and mind plagued with the unvarnished truth that her father had, in all actuality, abandoned her and that the gravestone she constantly spoke her heart and soul to, was a fake – and that was how Snow spent the remainder of what started out to be an amazing first day of her new life.

* * *

The coping mechanism Snow chose to pursue relieved and simultaneously worried Logan.

The following day, Snow emerged from her room for breakfast dressed entirely in black in a profound reflection of her mood. Then she smiled at him; _smiled_, like nothing had happened the prior day, like he hadn't divulged to Snow earth-shattering news. While genuine, Logan sensed it was slightly forced and that Snow was _forcing_ herself to wake, move and sleep with the passage of each day. It was truly a juxtaposition, one that confounded him _immensely_ – around people, Snow was all smiles, her movement and voice animated and lively, but when temporarily left to her own devices, her jubilance transformed into an eerie emotionless state.

Following the tremendous revelation that her father had taken advantage of and lived up to the title of 'absentee father' the mass of Mystic Falls bequeathed him with, Snow decided she wanted a break from the supernatural, meaning, excluding Logan, she didn't want to interact with anybody from the supernatural community – no Stefan, no Damon, no Bonnie, and no Elena, the latter a reluctant decision as she was always around her vampire boyfriend and their witch best friend. Logan had the feeling Snow merely yearned to feel normal following the revelation that she…well, _wasn't_.

Emerging from her room the next morning, Logan hesitantly suggested the shopping trip with Carol and to his surprised delight, Snow readily accepted. Afterward, he accepted an invitation to dinner at the Lockwood's on their behalf – a benefit being Logan receiving an invite into their home without evoking suspicion.

The next couple of days, Snow spent them in the company of Caroline and sometimes, Matt and Tyler. The blonde even slept over. And on one memorable afternoon, Snow and Logan cooked lunch together, him having lived a bachelor life, was only deft at breakfast, and thus, Snow cheerfully taught him the art of cooking while Logan taught her that cooking could be fun when it wasn't a chore. Baking alongside Caroline, the three of them ended up having a food fight with flour and cookie batter. However, throughout it all, Snow guiltily screened Elena, Bonnie and Stefan's numerous calls, delegating to Logan the awkward task of calling and informing them that Snow wanted a break from the supernatural drama that incessantly unfolded around them; Stefan the only one to comprehend her reasons as he was the only one with prior knowledge of Stanley Silverstone's alive status.

It was on the fourth day that Stefan finally knocked on their door with news that shattered Snow's precariously constructed bubble of normalcy.

Warily, Logan invited him inside, "Stefan, to what can we owe this impromptu visit?"

Discerning the rigidity of Snow's form and the way she resolutely avoided his stare, Stefan sighed, forest greens bright with sadness, "I'm sorry for just showing up like this, Snow. Logan made your wishes to stay out of…everything very clear." Swallowing, he tore his eyes from her to capture Logan's. "I was hoping we could talk. A lot's happened that you need to know about. It's _important_," he stressed.

"What's going on, Stefan?" Sensing the exhaustion, panic and utter fear radiating off the vampire snapped Snow out of her inner depression. With a sigh, Logan retreated and promptly emerged with two longnecks, as was starting to become tradition between the two vampires. "So," Logan prefaced, sitting next to Snow on the three-seater and wounding an arm around her shoulders. "What can we do for you, Stefan?"

Tersely, Stefan elucidated on the series of events that took place, starting from Stefan's lie to help Damon get Katherine out of the tomb, and ending in Anna kidnapping Elena – "And Damon won't tell me where Elena's being kept," he concluded with a desolate huff, taking a large chug from the bottle.

Brows knit together in disapproval, Snow shot him a look of unadulterated disappointment, "Well, of course he wouldn't. Stefan, you _lied_ to him. You lied and _backstabbed_ him. Damon trusted you and Elena, and both of you turn around and, and…" Trailing off, she shook her head, unable to assemble words that'd properly describe their awful act. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Stefan returned Snow's expression with one of his own, "Snow, I love the fact that you're forgiving and believe in seeing the best in everyone, but Damon and Katherine, it's a volatile combination. Katherine is heartless, ruthless, sadistic and merciless. With her out, no matter what Damon promises, a lot of people will end up hurt, _including Elena_."

But to Stefan's frustration and Logan's amusement, Snow simply said, "Love doesn't make sense. You can't logic your way in or out of love."

Simultaneously, Stefan groaned, "What has _that_ got to do with anything?" and Logan chuckled, "I heard you were an incorrigible romantic."

Downing his drink, Stefan got to his feet, "I don't have time for this, look, I need to continue searching for Elena. She has Damon's blood in her system and-" Cutting himself off, he leveled them with a solemn look, "Anna—"

"Right, the head honcho piggy finally came out of the woodwork, huh," Logan mused aloud, a smirk on his lips that shrouded his concern for Jenna's niece.

"And from what Damon's been told, your sire," Stefan revealed. But Logan's posture exuded unconcern, wholly uninterested in Anna's fate. He didn't entertain any revenge fantasies against her. During his two month stay with the witches, Logan came to the realization that vampirism suited him and had come to terms with the fact that he made a better vampire than human – a harsh reality, but the truth nonetheless and he ultimately made his peace with his new existence. "I just came to tell you, no matter _what_, do _not_ leave this house."

_That_ sparked Logan's interest, his expression transforming completely. "And _why not_?" he sounded deceptively calm, like one wrong word could result in death and destruction.

"Damon may not care about what happens to Elena, but he does Snow," Stefan's gaze flickered from a furious Logan to a fearful Snow, both pairs of eyes intent on him. "Anna made a threat against Snow. She wants to form an alliance to get into the tomb. Her mother, Pearl's in there. Damon wouldn't budge though, so Anna made a comment about using Snow to…to make him more _cooperative_—"

A guttural, menacing growl escaped Logan and Stefan perceived the redness of his sclerae before he quickly slammed his eyes shut, not wanting to terrify Snow more than she already was. "She's a dead vampire," he snarled in a matter-of-fact tone, no longer tensed and jaw relaxed, and inwardly, Stefan couldn't help but be impressed by Logan's indomitable self-control. Shooting Stefan a penetrating gaze, Logan said, "You should ask Sheila Bennett for help, Stefan. Anna needs Damon for one reason, he has the grimoire. Meaning she already has a witch-"

"Bonnie," Snow whimpered, hands trembling in fear for her friends. She signed herself out of supernatural drama for _a few days_ and two of her best friends managed to get themselves captured and held hostage by scheming vampires. Guilt consumed her and she buried her face in her hands.

Hope however, restored Stefan's dispirited attitude, "Of course. Don't worry, Snow. I'll get them back."

Peeking at him from between her fingers, in a small voice, Snow said, "When you do, can you… tell them I'm sorry for ignoring them these past few days."

Flashing her a comforting smile, Stefan departed.

* * *

A visit to a pissed off witch, a locator spell, and a threat to a newbie vampire later, Elena and Bonnie were successfully rescued by Stefan 'The Good Brother' Salvatore, and taken to Grandmother Bennett's House for safety reasons. And while the Bennett Matriarch fussed over the younger girls' wellbeing, Stefan ducked into another room with his phone whipped out and ready.

A novice to the craft, Bonnie stared at her Grams in awe, fascinated with the ease in which she found their location, "How did you know where we were?"

Smiling grimly, Sheila's dark eyes hardened, beside herself with fury at the vampires' audacity…_to take a Bennett witch hostage_! "Many things can fuel a witch's power. Worry. Anger. After Stefan told me they had taken you, I had a lot of both. Simple locator spell was easy after that," she explained, and despite the incensed rage coursing through her, Sheila Bennett portrayed utmost placidity.

"I'm sorry about all of this," Bonnie shifted on the sofa, a stab of guilt piercing her which quickly morphed into a strong gale of shame, engulfing her completely. It was her stupidity and gullibility that got them into this – if they hadn't managed to capture Bonnie, they wouldn't have grabbed Elena. Not to mention her initial bout of denial and therefore, failure to hone her power. If she had believed her Grams and allowed her to train her, then Bonnie would have _instantly _sensed Ben was a vampire. Furthermore, a voice inside her head, one that sounded like Caroline Forbes, acknowledged she fell for Ben's seduction because it felt _nice_ to, for once, be the first choice and not second or third or fourth, as was the norm when she was best friends with three gorgeous, exotic and vivacious girls.

However, to the novice witch's shock, her Grams smirked, "Not as sorry as they're gonna be."

In the supernatural community, angering a Bennett Witch was foolish and downright suicidal, because regardless of the passage of time, even in death, the wrathful witches eventually exacted their vengeance. Unbeknownst to most of the living, their vindictiveness was a trait passed down by the Originator of the Bennett line.

Pocketing his phone and joining the trio of women, Stefan deposited himself on the sofa next to Elena who immediately clasped his hand, curiosity alight in her soft brown orbs, "Who were you on the phone with?"

"Logan," Stefan revealed with a sigh. "I promised him and Snow I would inform them once I found you two-"

Identical frowns on their visage, Elena and Bonnie looked away. Releasing a soft breath, her tone an amalgamation of hurt and hopeful, Bonnie asked, "Does that mean Snow's not mad at us anymore?" After the nth call to go unanswered, their worriment skyrocketed. Then one morning, on their way to class, Caroline offhandedly made a comment about a food fight with Snow and Logan before she slept-over and of how amazing Logan Fell was and of how they were missed, all before realization struck her and she inquired in bemusement "_how come you guys weren't there?_" which was when they knew Snow, for some reason, was avoiding them. It hurt, _deeply_, especially when Logan eventually confessed Snow wanted a small break from anything supernatural.

Sympathy colored his features and Stefan abruptly shook his head, attempting to put their fears to rest, "No, that's not it. Snow she's-, she hasn't been having a rough couple of days." Rubbing his temples, he fixated both girls with a solemn stare, "Logan recently discovered Stanley Silverstone's been alive this whole time. As you can imagine, Snow didn't take the news too well."

Surprised didn't even cover the girls' reaction to the wholly unexpected revelation. They felt like their entire world had shifted and the ground underneath their feet was crumbling apart, sucking them into the dark abyss of the unknown where secrets and the horrifying reality continuously piled up until they no longer recognized the life they were currently living. Elena and Bonnie couldn't shake off the sensation that _every single one of them_, including the denizens of the ostensible picturesque town they resided in, were living a complete _lie_.

"Mr. Silverstone is _alive_?" the girls intoned, each and every syllable laced with profound shock.

Responding with a nod, Stefan pursed his lips grimly, "He's the reason Snow survived the surgery. He was the anonymous donor." And upon that disclosure, forest green eyes flickered between the girls, observing as they made an attempt to process it all, which was how Stefan realized Sheila was seemingly the only individual unaffected by the shocking revelation, his suspicions promptly rising. …Was it possible, was _Sheila Bennett_ the witch responsible for calling Stanley over?

Just as the suspicion struck him, the matriarch's soulful dark eyes snapped to meet his, cognizance in their depths.

Suppressing a shiver and filing those thoughts away to ponder over at a later hour, preferably with Logan, Stefan returned to their current quandary, "I need you three to stay here so I can protect you while Damon and Anna deal with finding a witch to open the tomb."

Hackles raised, Sheila scoffed, "A prisoner, in my own home? I don't think so."

"I can't protect you if you leave the house," Stefan retorted, familiar with the obstinacy of Bennett witches. The Bennett Matriarch remained adamant however, her decision unwavering, "We'll protect ourselves."

Noting the burgeoning tension in the room, and concerned for the state of her home and her loved ones, Elena finally let her opinion be heard, "We need to let him have Katherine back." Disregarding the fact that three incredulous pairs of eyes belonging to three expressions of disbelief were fixated on her, she continued, not budging, "He's _not_ going to stop until he gets her. If we help him, maybe that ends it."

The main advocate of the Let's Bash Damon Club, Bonnie – who had been busy drowning in a reverie before Elena snapped her out of it – whirled around to glare at her friend, venom dripping off her tongue, "_No_! He doesn't _deserve_ to get what he wants."

"What other choice do we have?" Elena countered in defeat, her eyes mostly focused on Stefan. "If this keeps up, Mystic Falls might enter a state of constant war. Damon and Anna both want in, and neither one of them are going to easily give up."

Sensing some merit in Elena's words, Sheila emitted a loud sigh, summoning their undivided attention, "Witches being pulled down by vampire problems. As much as we tried to do to stay out of it…" Coming to a decision, she nodded, determination in her voice, "I'll open the tomb. You get your brother's girl and destroy the rest with fire. Then this will be all over." Elena was correct after all, neither vampire will give up, meaning, she needed to take them out of the equation, for good.

"We still have to get Damon to agree," Stefan grimaced, and unbidden, Snow's unvarnished rebuke reverberated in his skull, creating a sudden surge of guilt he hadn't felt when he initially lied to his brother and proceeded to backstab him. Elena was quick to point out that he already agreed last night. "Yeah, and then we double crossed him. So now he's angry."

More versed in the intricacies of emotions as a result of her friendship with Snow, Elena disagreed, "He's hurt. There's a difference. I think I know what I have to do." However, before Elena got to her feet, Bonnie's shaky voice stopped her short.

"Grams, there's something else… something I've been _keeping_ to myself for a while," Bonnie was hesitant, her gaze unable to hold anyone else's. Instead of prodding for the unveiling of the secret, Sheila maintained her silence and patiently awaited her granddaughter's next words, whereas Stefan and Elena shifted curiously. "That night, when Emily possessed me, right before she left my body, she told me, she told me that '_the Pure needs to be protected, no matter the cost_'."

Incredibly baffled, Elena looked to Stefan, "The Pure? What's a Pure?" Stefan however, shared his girlfriend's sentiments, equally flummoxed; throughout the entirety of his immortal life he had only been aware of the existence of vampires and witches.

Thin eyebrows snapped together. Sheila, after mulling her granddaughter's words over, murmured in an exceptionally mystical voice, "_I see_… Bonnie, did Emily by any chance reveal _who_ the Pure is?"

Bonnie inclined her head, worried frowns etched on her face as she uttered one name, "Snow."

* * *

Ejecting a low whistle, Logan folded his arms and leaned against the doorpost, ankles crossed and looking the perfect picture of nonchalance. "You must have truly hit rock-bottom to be standing on my doorstep," he stated in amusement, an eyebrow arched and corners of his mouth slowly quirking into his trademark smirk.

Eyes rolling halfheartedly in their sockets and posture downhearted, Damon shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and muttered, "You have no idea." When Logan maintained the state of quietude that elapsed between them, acute hazel orbs analyzing the Salvatore brother before him, Damon huffed out an impatient exhalation of breath, "Snow around?"

"She's sleeping," Logan stated succinctly, eyes still perusing him.

Electric-blue orbs shuttered and withdrawing a hand from his pocket, Damon dragged it down his face. "Great. _Just _great," he groaned, turning to leave.

"You know," Logan prefaced pointedly, the sound of his voice prompting the woebegone vampire to halt in his tracks and look at him from over his shoulder. "While you never stopped by, Snow made sure to invite you. Said despite everything you've done, she trusts you." Surprised, Damon pivoted around, his eyes automatically colliding with the pair of hard hazels, bereft of speech. Logan on the other hand, wasn't the least bit inarticulate, "I'm not gonna lie, I'm not thrilled by it, but…I trust Snow and from what I've seen, she's good a great judge of character and has yet to be wrong." Uncrossing his ankles and pushing himself off the doorpost, he wordlessly gestured toward the warmth of his house.

Hesitating for a fraction, Damon shrugged right before he shuffled inside, eyes raking the interior as Logan shut the front door behind him.

Bypassing him, Logan closed the distance to the expansive home bar. It exuded a homey, elegant vibe with exotic wood of polished cherry, stylish veneer, garnet carpeting and tempered glass, and was situated in the far corner of the living room, segregated by a wrap-around bar-table. Five bar stools dotted the bar-table, thirty inches in height, high-backed with garnet padding on the seat and mid-back area. The other side of the bar-table was furnished to the nines with a built-in sink, a small refrigerator _and_ a wine cooler, a blender, cocktail shaker, an ice bucket, and a bottle opener. There were wall-mounted open shelves showcasing a bottle of almost every alcoholic drink imaginable while the refrigerator was stocked with a variety of juice, soda, and garnishes. Below, the cabinet was loaded with glassware and adjacent to the built-in sink were Angostura bitters, tobacco sauce and a jar of salt and sugar. Overhead, hung a pendant lighting fixture which further enhanced the homey feel.

Impressed, Damon stopped short, "Bit much, don't you think?"

"_Hah_! You kidding, this is my castle," Logan barked out a good-natured laugh as he went around the bar. Feeling the electric-blue gaze burning a hole into him, he paused to squarely meet his stare. "I'm a bachelor," he said by way of explanation, it making perfect sense to him, if not Damon. "And now-" while he spoke, he withdrew two short-glasses from the cabinet, filling one with scotch and the other with bourbon, "-that I'm a vampire, I'm an _eternal bachelor_, so I can fully enjoy all this with an improved tolerance. In my book, that's a great reward."

Accepting the proffered glass of bourbon, Damon held it limply in his hand and stared, not daring to take a sip unlike Logan, who immediately chugged his back and poured a refill. "It's not poisoned," mischievous hazels rolled in their sockets.

"Why?" Damon voiced suspiciously.

Cocking his head, Logan filled out a bar stool and cradled his drink, "Why isn't it poisoned-"

Cutting him off with a snarl, Damon snapped, "_Why_ are you doing this? You let me in, poured me a drink. And, and you're acting weirdly _nice_…" Trailing off, he masked his bemusement with a glower, "What's your game, Fell?"

Displaying his stellar tendency to flip between moods, any and all signs of lightheartedness and mischief were erased from his countenance. He resumed the uneasy penetrating stare from earlier, giving Damon the impression he was either reading his mind or piercing his soul, or probably both. Shifting, furious over his discomfort at being stared at by a _baby fricking vampire_, Damon sneered back, eyes cold like a glacier. Tipping a honey-blonde brow, Logan slid his drink back and interlaced his fingers together, "For starters, it doesn't take a genius to realize things didn't go as planned for you. Last I heard, the plan was to open the tomb this night. However-" throwing him a pointed look, "-instead of skipping off into the sunset with your lost love, you're _here_… In my house."

Like a locked phone or logged off computer, Damon's expression shut-down. Truth be told, he didn't know he was coming here until he stood by Fell's doorstep, fist knocking on his front door. He belatedly realized he wanted to bask in Snow's company – the sweet, kind-hearted girl who saw the best in _everyone_, and possessed an unlimited repertoire of words of wisdom and encouragement. He had a feeling Snow Silverstone would turn his dejectedness upside down and instill him with optimism and joy. But to his _misfortune_, she was currently unavailable, her guardian obviously not about to wake her up to boost the confidence of a trigger-happy vampire with rage issues and the cause of the all the death and destruction that occurred in Mystic Falls. And then Logan offered…

"Don't flatter yourself. I came for Snow," he snapped, teeth gnashing together.

Teeth barred in a menacing smile, Logan maintained eye contact, fire brewing in the depths of his hazel orbs, before his mouth slowly clamped shut and spread into a sardonic smile. A mirthless chuckle escaped him. "Trust me when I say this, Salvatore, I dislike you _so very much_. I _despise_ the fact that my goddaughter found something worthy in _you_. However-" he abruptly changed course, pensive all of a sudden, "-like I mentioned before, I've studied you while I was away and I like to think I gotta good read on you. You need to vent. You're _desperate_ to spill your guts to someone. Not your brother, no he lied to you. Not Elena, she shares the face of your lost love. Snow's asleep, and like _Hell_ am I waking her up after the couple of horrible days she's been having. You haven't bothered making any friends here. So, that leaves…_me_," he sarcastically threw both hands out in mock exuberance. "Trust me, I've always had shitty luck at winning the lottery. Never won anything before in my life, can you believe it," he deadpanned. Hands clapping together, he grabbed his short-glass and raised it in the air, "Better I suffer in your company than the masses out there, none of whom deserve to be recipients of your lash out."

He then chugged back his drink – _again_. Blindly reaching for the bottle of scotch he had the forethought to leave on the bar-top, Logan poured a refill – _again_.

And despite everything, the corners of Damon's mouth crept upward, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "Your opinion of me makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside," he quipped dryly. Logan saluted him. Approaching the bar with slow footsteps, Damon took a bar stool, ensuring another created distance between them. "Just to clarify something, this doesn't mean we're friends."

Hand flying to his chest, Logan gasped in mock horror, "Perish the thought."

Against his will, Damon snorted and finally indulged in a mouthful of bourbon. For a while, not much was spoken between the antagonistic vampires, the minutes spent drinking and occasionally refilling their glasses, the air around them calm and erected from a temporary truce. After having imbibed his first sip, Damon claimed his appreciation over it being "_the good stuff_" which prompted an almost offended retort of "_of course it is!_"

It was after Damon's third refill, did he finally blurt out, "Katherine wasn't there." The laconic explanation was instantly understood by Logan. Donning a confused expression, he arched an eyebrow, silently probing for a more thorough explanation. "According to Pearl, she's An—"

"Head honcho piggy's mom. Yeah, yeah, I heard," flippant, Logan brushed a hand through the air.

Another snort was forcibly expelled from his lips at Anna's moniker. "Yeah. She said Katherine promised the guard locking them in she'd turn him. Apparently he was obsessed with her, like _everyone else_-" the 'like me' was unspoken, "-so he let her go. That _manipulative_ _bitch_-" he cut himself off and knocked back his drink. "Anna told me she ran into Katherine in Chicago, 1983. All this time, Katherine's been out…she _knew_ where I was and-, she didn't care," Damon bitterly spat out, trying to quash the need to both, blubber like a baby and perform mass murder.

The nicest, most supportive act Logan could do, was refill Damon's drink. And not give him an ounce of pity. Another spell of silence ensued, both vampires lost in thought. "Look, if I were you, I'd focus on one emotion. If you're fully set on rage, take it out on those who deserve it. Like Katherine and Anna," he uttered lightly.

"Katherine, I get. But why Anna?" Damon blinked, perplexed.

Smirking, his eyes dancing merrily, Logan simply pointed out, "All this time, Anna's been watching you run around like a headless chicken trying to get that blasted tomb open, when she's known Katherine was never down there." In afterthought, he added, "Plus, her blood turned me. If not for her, I wouldn't be around."

And to Damon's surprise, he laughed. Genuine laughter involuntarily burst forth from his lips, "You're not that bad."

Mirth and mischief intensifying, Logan drawled out, "Careful, Damon, you keep this up, I'm gonna think that on some deeper level, you actually like me."

Mimicking Logan's previous action, Damon placed a hand over his chest, his expression one of mock horror, "Perish the thought."

Suddenly, the sound of Logan's ringtone permeated the air, interrupting the unexpected moment of bonding between them.

Glancing down at the Caller ID, Logan promptly accepted the call. Shoving the phone beneath his ear, Logan drawled, his voice a panty-dropping purr that resembled rich honey, "_Well, well,_ _**well**__… if it isn't my favorite witch._" Meeting Damon's curious stare, he pressed a finger to his lips, "_You know, your timing is_ _**im**__peccable, I was planning on calling you tomorrow._"

"_Logan_," a female voice greeted before emitting an exhausted sigh. "_I see you haven't changed one bit_ _since I last left you._"

A cheeky grin colored his lips, "That _ship's sailed, darling. You know I'm stuck this way_." Damon rolled his eyes and he could hear the witch on the other end release a reluctant chuckle, Logan's charm infectious. "_Anyway, let's talk shop. We gotta lot to catch up on, like the fact you're Stanley Silverstone's flying monkey!_" he snapped, his tone biting.

"_What, __**Logan**__!? I don't know what you're—_"

"_Cut the crap, Sophie!_" Logan suddenly let out a feral growl. Keeping his tone level so as to not wake Snow up, he said, "_I found proof. I know he's alive and I know you're in touch with him. And I_ _**know**_ _you_ _were the one to lead him to Mystic Falls when Snow got attacked. What I_ _**don't know**_ _is_ _**why**_ _you haven't told me._"

On the other end, Sophie slumped in defeat and with her free hand, rubbed her eye. "_He doesn't want Snow to know._ _It completely defeats the purpose of faking his death! I didn't tell you, Logan because I knew you'd tell Snow,_" she confessed, not a touch of commiseration in her voice. While she genuinely liked Logan and enjoyed his company, and while she could comprehend how horrible it must have been for Snow upon discovering the truth, her loyalties unequivocally lied with Stanley Silverstone. For that reason, she detached herself from the dysfunctional situation as she couldn't risk her emotions getting in the way and ruining _everything_.

Hand tightening around his drink, Logan let out an aggressive scoff, "_Well, you're not wrong there. The cat's out of the bag now. Contrary to popular belief, I'm taking my role as Snow's godfather __**very**__ seriously. Didja honestly think I'd let the matter go… that I wouldn't find it suspicious when some anonymous person who __**so happened**__ to share the same blood type as Snow __**benevolently**__ donated blood just when all hope was gone? You taught me better than that, Soph._" He then mockingly taunted her with his next statement, "_When it comes to the supernatural community, __**never**__ trust a coincidence, they're rarely what they seem. __**Danica**__ told me that._"

Damon's lips pursed, the expression having made an impact on him. '_I'm gonna use that one…_'

"_Danica favored you too much. More than she was supposed to_," Sophie huffed in mild irritation. Shrugging, Logan knocked back his drink, surprised when Damon poured him a refill. "_It helps that her munchkin adores me_," he boasted, an illegal smirk that reeked of smugness painting his lips. "_Don't change the subject, Sophie!_"

Silence ensued on both ends and Damon mouthed '_who's Danica_', an inaudible huff escaping him when his inquiry went blatantly ignored. "_Fine. I'll tell you something, but only because I'm desperate!_" Sophie snapped, prompting an eye roll out of Logan. "_I had Sheila Bennett cast a linking spell to Snow's_ _heartbeat. It's like a beacon. When Snow got attacked, an alarm sounded and Sheila made sure I was immediately informed. Here's where the pickle comes in though. Sheila's dead_," she revealed bluntly.

"_**What**__?_" Logan hissed. Knowing the pivotal role the Bennett witches had in the opening of the tomb, his glare automatically sought Damon out, only to find the Salvatore vampire just as surprised as him, _if not more_, a crease of confusion having materialized between his brows.

Bulldozing onward with the compassion of a saint, Sophie proceeded to explain her conundrum, "_That brings me squarely at an impasse. With no witch to protect Snow or at least inform me of her condition, I __**can't**__ protect her. So I need you to keep me updated until this matter is solved."_

Thoroughly distracted from his woes by the surprising situation, Damon mouthed something to Logan, who nodded and relayed the message, "_What do you get out of it? Why are you so adamant in protecting Snow?_" Suspicion rolled off his tongue, lacing each and every word.

"_That's a personal matter, Logan_," Sophie retorted brusquely; jazz music blared in the background which easily pierced Logan and Damon's eardrums. Excusing herself for a moment, after a moment, silence ensued, allowing them to speak freely. "_Look Logan, it's personal, all I can tell you is that we promised __**Stanley**__ we'd protect his daughter. And yes, before you ask, of course a price was asked in exchange. We're not guardian angels, we have lives, you know,"_ she grumbled, obviously the topic being a touchy one.

Maintaining an amicable composure, Logan genuinely asked, "_What can I do for you, Soph?_" Despite his current anger and their secretive alliance with Stanley, he held a deep respect for witches, especially Sophie's coven. Irregardless of their motive, if not for them, Logan would've probably ended up dead or become a ruthless vampire ruled by bloodlust – the very thing he feared and was raised to hate with a passion.

Her approach pragmatic, Sophie adopted a crisp and professional tone as she rattled off, "_Mystic Falls has a sad shortage of witches. The same can't be said for vampires. There are two directions we can take: either Bonnie Bennett quickly catches up in the craft and reaches Sheila's level so she could take over her previous job, or we locate another witch. Personally I'm more partial to that last one. Either way, I need you to keep me updated._"

His lips curling upward, Logan snidely remarked, "_**Or**__ you can give me Stan's number and address so I can rip him a new one. __**I'm**__ more partial to __**that**_."

Fist pressed to his lips, Damon swallowed back a chuckle.

"_This __**isn't**__ up for negotiation, __**Logan**__!_" Sophie let out an annoyed yell. "_Just keep me updated, okay? …__**Please**_," she sighed in defeat, her tone desperate.

He didn't like it, but personal feelings aside, Logan couldn't deny the crucial part the witches had in saving Snow's life. He'd be a fool to pass up the benefits of having a powerful coven on call. "_I promise_," no sooner had he made the vow did Sophie end the line, cutting off further communication between them.

Before Damon could initiate a game of twenty questions, Logan cut him off. "Yes, Sophie's the witch who found me and made me my ring. No, I'm not telling you any more than that. And probably, Stanley had her looking out for me once news of my return to Mystic Falls reached his attention. I _am_ kind of a celebrity after all," he couldn't help but cockily insert, prompting a heavy scowl from the other vampire. "Anything else, Cupcake?" He smiled mockingly – they may have had a moment, and the tension between them might not be _as thick_ as before, but that didn't mean, in no uncertain terms, that Logan trusted Damon Salvatore or liked him, and he wouldn't share the coven's secrets or location to him, _at all_.

"I really hate you," Damon grumbled, turning his attention back to his bourbon.

Emitting a half-scoff, half-chuckle, Logan pointed out, "I'm sure your hatred of me pales in comparison to Bonnie's hatred of you. You _do _know that Sheila died because of magical exertion, right? Meaning, 'cause of… _drum rolls please_," he adopted the voice of a game show host. "_You_!" he finally revealed in mock cheer before chugging back his drink and adding another refill.

Damon grimaced and rubbed his temple, "Just what I need… a vengeful witch on my tail. And not just any witch, but a _Bennett_ witch. That can't be good for my health."

He raised his glass, a mischievous smirk that screamed Logan wasn't up to _any good_ on his face, and his voice thick with humor, "But it'll be one heck of a show. _Cheers_, Cupcake."

* * *

_A woman with shoulder-length blonde hair and warm green eyes dressed in a long, white nightgown stepped into a room and flicked on the lights, revealing a nursery. A child who looked to be around four-years-old with shaggy dark blonde hair and wide green eyes identical to the woman's, had his tiny hand clutched tightly in hers, his eyes gleaming happily at the sight of the crib._

_She beamed down at him, her eyes fond, "Come on, let's say goodnight to your brother."_

_Crossing the room to the crib, the woman cooed at the infant, doe brown eyes staring up at her. The baby gurgled at the sight of his mother and brother. The little boy leaned over the side of the crib, kissing the baby on the forehead before saying in a childish voice, "'Night, Sam."_

"_Goodnight, love," the woman said, leaning over him and brushing his hair back before placing a kiss on his forehead as well._

_The scene abruptly shifted; the same woman stirred in her bed as the baby monitor, which sat on the nightstand, emitted strange noises. Turning on the lamp, a pucker of confusion between her brows, she blindly reached over to the other side of the bed. "John?" She, however, was met with air, and turning over, she found herself in bed, alone._

_Feet planted on the ground, she left her room and padded along the hall, confusion still the main emotion on her face, though a hint of weariness lurked within her expressive green eyes. Stopping by Sam's nursery, she peered inside to see silhouette standing over the crib. "John? Is he hungry?" she voiced in a hush._

_Head turning a fraction, the shadows around him masked any distinguishing features. "Shhh."_

"_All right." Smiling, the woman left the room and retook her previous steps back to her room. However, she froze in place once the lights by the stairs began to flicker. A frown on her face, she tapped the light until it steadied, a pensive hum leaving her. Lights from downstairs flickered up the stairs and her frown grew even more pronounced, green eyes a fraction wide._

_Deciding to investigate its source, with each step she descended, noise from a television permeated the air and she stopped at the landing, her eyes widening as they flickered from the war movie playing on the television to the back of a man with jet black hair asleep on the sofa, his face buried into a pillow._

_For a brief second, her visage portrayed shock and fear, both emotions battling for dominance. Spurred into activity, she flew up the stairs, her healthy complexion draining of color as she shouted at the top of her lungs, "Sammy! Sammy!"_

_She entered the nursery and as the scene began to darken, a loud, high-pitched scream rent the air._

_The darkness slowly started to brighten as the scene panned to the man downstairs who had promptly jolted awake at the scream. Focusing on the man's back, he ran up the stairs, three steps at a time, and barged into the nursery. The room was eerily quiet and empty except for the infant who lay awake in his crib. The back of the man's head shifted from left to right, searching for the woman as he approached Sam. "Hey, Sammy. You okay?" he had a deep, rich voice with hints of husk._

_A drop of crimson rained from above, creating a splotch next to Sam and the man – John, lightly brushed a finger against it just as two more drops followed, splattering on the back of his hand. John instantly glanced up at the ceiling. The image altered, zooming in on the familiar figure sprawled across the ceiling, barely alive as she stared down at them with pain and tears welling in her vibrant eyes, the stomach of her white nightgown a spreading pool of crimson._

_The man sank into the ground, and although his face couldn't be deciphered since only the back of his head was shown, he let out an agonizing shout, "No! Mary!"_

_Before his very eyes, the woman, Mary burst into flames; the fire began to spread over the ceiling as John stared, his body frozen in shock while Sam began to wail loudly at the top of his lungs. Snapped back to reality by the cry of his son, John hastened to the crib and cradled a crying Sam in his arms before running down the hallway; the room was ablaze and Mary's body could barely be seen._

"_No!" John yelled._

_The four year old boy scrambled out of his room, "Daddy!"_

_John shoved Sam into the boy's arms, "Take your brother outside as fast as you can and don't look back! Now, Dean, go!" The boy, Dean obeyed and ran outside just as John retreated into the nursery_

_The scene abruptly shifted; outside the house, John hurried over and scooped Dean, who had a tight hold on Sam, into his arms, carrying them toward safety and away from the burning house. "I gotcha," he cried._

_Suddenly, an explosion could be heard and the roaring fire blasted out of Sam's nursery window._

_Once again, the scene shifted. However, it was a depiction of different location._

_A tall, lean man in his early twenties with a mop of curly brown hair and familiar warm brown eyes unlocked the front door to an apartment. The interior was dark and quiet. Footsteps slowing, he warily called out, "Jess?" Receiving no response, he slowly closed the door, though his eyes remained wary, "You home?"_

_His eyes flickered around the room and almost instantly landed on a plate of chocolate chip cookies that sat on a table, a note beside it with the words 'Missed you! Love you!'. The man picked a cookie and took a bite just as he snuck into a bedroom, a wide smile on his face._

_From the adjoining room, the shower could be heard running._

_Making himself comfortable on the bed, he stretched out, placed his folded hands underneath his head and closed his eyes. All of a sudden, a crimson drop splattered on his forehead which was quickly followed by multiple drops. Flinching at the foreign intrusion, his eyes snapped open, a gasp of horror immediately leaving his lips as his face morphed into an expression of utmost horror._

_A beautiful woman with golden blonde curls and a beauty spot between her brows was pinned to the ceiling, wide blue eyes devoid of life staring down at him as blood pooled from her stomach._

"_No!" the man screamed in despair, his eyes never leaving Jess as she promptly burst into flames and the fire began to spread across the ceiling and down the walls, engulfing the room in fire._

_At that moment, a door banging open and slamming against the wall echoed throughout the apartment, and a deep, husky voice, fear and alarm potent in his tone, yelled out, "Sam!"_

_Sam raised a hand to shield his face from the bright flames, crying once more, "Jess!"_

_Another man who looked to be in his mid-twenties with dark blonde hair styled in a short-crop and familiar green eyes stormed into the bedroom, stopping short by the kneeled figure of Sam as he persistently shouted for Jess. "Sam! Sam!" the newcomer yelled before noticing the source of Sam's attention and he too, glanced up, his face contorting into a mixture of rage, horror and determination._

"_No! No!" Sam repeated in despair. The newcomer, showing impressive upper body strength, grabbed Sam and hauled him out the door, all the while, Sam struggled against him, desperately shouting, "Jess! Jess! No!"_

_Just then, flames engulfed the rest of the apartment._

_Again, the scene changed completely. There was complete blackness, and through the darkness, a pair of malignant, yellow eyes stared at her from the dark void, them being the only source of light. As the yellow eyes continued to stare at her, she saw and felt nothing good, only profound evil. They were malicious, and depraved, and repulsively iniquitous._

_She clawed at her bare hands to combat the shivers of disgust, red staining her fingernails. She attempted to crawl away from that immoral, wicked stare, but despite the distance she covered, she couldn't escape evil's gaze. Suddenly, a dark, slimy voice echoed throughout the black abyss, yellow eyes widening in malicious glee as each and every word assailed her, "__**That**__ is your Fate. __**You**__ are next, Snow Silverstone. There is __**no**__ escaping me! I can __**feel**__ your presence… and I will be coming for you, __**very soon**__, beauty."_

_And as she screamed at the top of her longs, a cruel laugh reverberated in her ears, yellow eyes glowing, "See you soon, Snow Silverstone."_

"AAAHH! NOOOOOO! _AHHHHH_! LEAVE ME ALONE, _PLEASE _LEAVE ME _ALONE_!"

Startled by her blood-curdling scream and the utter desperation in her tone, the two vampires burst into her room, the door slamming hard against the door. Fear potent on his visage, Logan ignored the ghastly sight on display and collected Snow in his arms as he attempted to snap her back into consciousness, hand carding frantically through her sweaty hair. The same couldn't be same for Damon; his visage shining with potent horror, he gaped dumbstruck at the image before him – soaked completely in sweat, her pajamas clinging to her body, which in turn clung to the bedspread, and hair plastered to her face and the nape of her neck, Snow turned and twisted unnaturally in her bed, legs kicking out and red-stained fingernails clawing at her bare hands like a crazy person, creating deep scratches in the process. However, it was her angelic face that did it for Damon, dousing him in unmitigated fear – her expression was one of pure agony and unadulterated fear, and her mouth open in a silent scream.

"Snow, Snow, wake up," his lips a hairsbreadth from her ear, Logan proceeded to continuously whisper in gentle tones. That, coupled with the soothing hand in her hair prompted the raven-haired girl to jolt awake, fearful violets snapping open and a sharp gasp emanating from her lips. Her body was completely tensed and it took her a few seconds to relax in her godfather's familiar embrace. "Uncle Logan?" she whimpered, her tearstained face a melancholic sight to behold.

Logan rocked her in his arms, "Shhhhh-_shhhhh_. Snow, honey, it was just a nightmare. _Just a nightmare_."

His calming words however, had the opposite effect on Snow. She rapidly and quite violently shook her head in adamant negative, her features a reflection of palpable fear. "No, no, it's not. Not a dream. He's, he's _coming_ _for_ _me_. He wants to kill me, he's going to _burn me_!" she sobbed, clutching fisting her hands in Logan's shirt as tears cascaded down her face.

A spurt of protectiveness slammed into Damon and he perched on the edge of her bed, "Who is?"

"Pure _evil_…" violet eyes, vivid with fear, flickered between them, and her voice barely above a whisper, shook. "Complete and _absolute_ _evil_. He has…he has _yellow eyes_. Eyes of_ profound evil_! He killed Mary and, and Jess, and-and, _and_-" she hiccupped, her absolute fear generating tremors in her voice, "-he's coming to kill me. He told _me_, he said there's no escaping him. He's _coming_ _for_ _me_," she enunciated each and every word in despair.

Unbidden, a memory reverberated vividly in the recess of Damon's mind, an incident he brushed off as the inane ramblings of a desperate witch. He recalled mocking Bree, claiming he only cared about releasing Katherine from the tomb and that as a vampire, powerful, nigh-immortal, it wasn't his problem, and then, he remembered laughing at her offer of help.

"_**A darkness looms in the horizon. For months now, The Spirits have been wailing, warning their descendants of this-, this pure evil! The air is contaminated, darkness pollutes it and Nature is crying, screaming for help … **__**It all leads to one specific location, Damon. A mystical hotspot, one that holds an abundance of dark secrets … And it is fast-approaching, it's destination Mystic Falls. Bad omens shall strike that town, if it hasn't begun already. This, I swear**_

"_**A darkness approaching Mystic Falls? You're that desperate I spare your life that you're spouting tall**__**tales to me? A vampire."**_

"_**Not just Mystic Falls, Damon. This darkness, this evil, while it has a specific destination, it does not pertain to a what, but a who. The location has been chosen because of a certain individual residing in Mystic Falls. And where this person goes, the darkness shall follow."**_

"_**And who may this unlucky person be?"**_

"_**I-I don't know. We don't know. The Spirits cry for the Pure, a gentle soul who stands no chance. Not without help. I can help you."**_

Raven brows snapped together, an intense horror in Damon's eyes as he stared at the hysterical girl crying her heart out in the crook of a concerned Logan's neck. Electric blue orbs and hazel orbs collided, their owners at a complete loss for words.

_It couldn't be… Could it? Was the 'Pure' that Bree spoke of Snow?_

* * *

Almost two fortnights elapsed since the death of Sheila Bennett and Mystic Falls remained in state of serenity. The town maintained its stagnancy except during the holidays; Christmas and New Year's as always, instigated chaos and absolute merriment. Furthermore, for the small supernatural community that inhabited the picturesque town, the days that morphed into weeks and approached a month were thankfully utterly tedious. There weren't any new threats or terrifying dreams or shady characters.

No, the Council and the handful vampires were glad with the tide of inertia that seemed to have shrouded their town.

However, on the first day of the fourth week, at first light, a moving truck drove past the 'Welcome to Mystic Falls' sign.

* * *

"_**All my life, I knew I was different. Now, I wish I just had a weak personality.**_**" **_**– **__**Snow Silverstone**_

"_**So, in order to open the tomb, we need to find the journal to get the grimoire to undo the spells. First things first – since you are Elena Gilbert, you're on journal duty.**_**" **_**– **__**Damon Salvatore**_

"_**What about our mystery vampire? Dimwit obviously wasn't working alone, so whoever's out there knows who we are.**_**" **_**– **__**Stefan Salvatore**_

"_**I don't want to not be human!**_**" **_**– **__**Snow Silverstone**_

"_**Logan, Snow, don't just stand there. Come in, come in.**_**" **_**– **__**Carol Lockwood**_

"_**She hasn't been returning any of our calls. I'm wracking my brain, trying to remember if I did something to Snow. Why is she ignoring us?**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert**_

"_**Stefan, I told Snow about Stanley. She didn't take it well. Obviously. She just, she wants a break from vampire business…and witch business. Basically, tell Elena and Bonnie it's nothing personal. She just wants some space.**_**" **_**– **__**Logan Fell**_

_**Alaric Saltzman:**_** "**_**My wife was a parapsychologist. She spent her life researching paranormal activity in this area. It was her work that led me here.**_**" **_**Stefan Salvatore:**_** "**_**Where's your wife?**_**" **_**Alaric Saltzman:**_** "**_**Dead. A vampire killed her.**_**"**

"_**It was so much fun! Me, Logan, Snow, batter-fight. I would have never thought Logan Fell was such a cool guy! I mean, he babysat us a few times, but I always thought Mom must've twisted his arm or something. But really, Logan's awesome! I hope he sticks around. …Hey, speaking of which, why weren't you guys there? Is there something going on between you two and Snow that I don't know about?**_**" **_**– **__**Caroline Forbes**_

"_**I don't know, man. This isn't our normal gig. I mean, demons, they don't want anything, just death and destruction for its own sake. This is big. And I wish Dad was here.**_**" **_**– **__**Dean Winchester**_

"_**Logan isn't the only loser I've dated.**_**" **_**– **__**Jenna Sommers**_

"_**Is it weird that every time Jenna badmouths Logan, I have this huge urge to defend him?**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert**_

_**Stefan Salvatore:**_** "**_**You met Damon.**_**" **_**Alaric Saltzman:**_** "**_**Who do you think killed my wife?**_**"**

"_**I saw him draining the life out of her. He must have heard me coming. He just…disappeared. So did her body. They never found her.**_**" **_**– **__**Alaric Saltzman**_

"_**This town is my home, Stefan. My friends and family are here. You're here. I don't want that tomb opened any more than you do.**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert**_

"_**We slipped him some blood when he started getting all poser slayer with that compass. I needed his family's journal. I couldn't let him die. Waste of my blood if you ask me. In the end, he did exactly what I didn't want him to do. And now he's busy playing house with that meek mortal. Girl lacks a backbone. Don't know how she's still alive, if you ask me.**_**" **_**– **__**Anna**_

"_**Give me the book, Stefan, or I'm snapping her neck. And you and I will have a vampire girlfriend.**_**" **_**– **__**Damon Salvatore**_

"_**It's biblical numerology. You know Noah's ark, it rained for forty days. The number means death.**_**" **_**– **__**Dean Winchester**_

"_**Damon was right. This is, uh…this is my fault. I put my faith in my father, but Damon put his faith in me, and I destroyed that. This is my fault.**_**" **_**– **__**Stefan Salvatore**_

_**Dean Winchester:**_ **"**_**Well, I kind of have this problem with, uh…**_**" **_**Sam Winchester:**_** "**_**Flying?**_**"**

"_**I found an exorcism in here that I think is gonna work. The Rituale Romanum. It's two parts. The first part expels the demon from the victim's body. It makes it manifest, which actually makes it more powerful. The second part sends the bastard back to hell once and for all.**_**" **_**– **__**Sam Winchester**_

"_**Evil looks to Mystic Falls.**_**" **_**– **__**The Spirits**_

"_**You know, all I can remember is hating you. There might have been a time when that was different, but your choices have erased anything good about you. But see, I also know you have just as much reason to hate me. This all began with me. Katherine got taken away from you because of me. And I'm sorry.**_**" **_**– **__**Stefan Salvatore**_

"_**I mean this sincerely. I hope Elena dies.**_**" **_**– **__**Damon Salvatore**_

"_**Well, well. Elena Gilbert. You really are Katherine's doppelgänger. You must have the Salvatore boys reeling. I'm Anna. Your brother may have mentioned me. I mean, we're like, practically dating.**_**" **_**– **__**Anna**_

"_**I don't know why… I look at Damon, and I don't see a monster who caused death, who killed Vicki and Lexi. And maybe that's a betrayal to all their memories. Maybe it's the… the empath in me. But I sense there's more to Damon than he portrays to the world. That he's been wearing a mask for so long, he doesn't know how to take it off and act himself.**_**" **_**– **__**Snow Silverstone**_

_**Caroline Forbes:**_** "**_**Snow! It's Duke! Duke's party. Come on, you cannot not go. It's Duke!**_**" **_**Snow Silverstone:**_** "**_**Caroline, you repeating his name won't change my mind. I'm not in a partying mood.**_**"**

"_**You have some nerve knocking on a Bennett witch's door and asking her for anything. Spirits talk, Mr. Salvatore, and so does my granddaughter. You are no friend to us. Now get off my porch.**_**" **_**– **__**Sheila Bennett**_

"_**I'm pretty sure it's like 1864 all over again. You say you don't care about Elena, fine. Then how about we sweeten the pot. Would you still not care if I nab the Silverstone girl?**_**" **_**– **__**Anna**_

"_**I didn't compel you in Atlanta because we were having fun. I wanted it to be real. I'm trusting you. Don't make me regret it.**_**" **_**– **__**Damon Salvatore**_

"_**Some seals keep vampires from entering. This one keeps them from coming out.**_**" **_**– **__**Sheila Bennett**_

"_**He's sure got issues with you. You got to go to college. He had to stay home. I mean, I had to stay home. With Dad. You don't think I had dreams of my own? But Dad needed me. Where the hell were you? …I am your brother. See, deep down, I'm just jealous. You got friends. You could have a life. Me? I know I'm a freak. And sooner or later, everybody's gonna leave me. You left. Hell, I did everything Dad asked me to, and he ditched me, too. No explanation, nothin', just poof. Left me with your sorry ass.**_**" **_**– **__**Shapeshifter Dean (to Sam Winchester)**_

"_**Grams! Grams, wake up! Grams! Grams! Help! Wake up! She's not breathing! She's just not breathing! Please, wake up!**_**" **_**– **__**Bonnie Bennett**_

"_**It's too late. Evil approaches. Evil is on its way. The Pure is in grave danger.**_**" **_**– **__**The Spirits**_

"_**Cops are blamin' this Dean Winchester guy for Emily's murder.**_**" **_**– **__**Sam Winchester**_

"_**You know, the truth is, even at Stanford, deep down, I never really fit in.**_**" **_**– **__**Sam Winchester**_

"_**Stick to the Winchesters. Leave that town to me.**_**" **_**– **__**Azazel (to Meg)**_

_**Dean Winchester:**_** "**_**Look, Sammy, what can I say, man, it's a dangerous gig. I drew the short straw. That's it, end of story.**_**" **_**Sam Winchester:**_** "**_**Don't talk like that, alright? We still have options.**_**" **_**Dean Winchester:**_** "**_**What options? Yeah, burial or cremation. And I know it's not easy. But I'm gonna die. And you can't stop it.**_**" **_**Sam Winchester:**_** "**_**Watch me.**_**"**

"_**She's been catatonic for days. That dream, I'm sorry, nightmare, it's really affected her. I don't know what to do, girls. I need you to get her out of this funk.**_**" **_**– **__**Logan Fell (to Caroline, Bonnie and Elena)**_

"_**Hey, Dad. It's Sam. Uh… you probably won't even get this, but, uh…it's Dean. He's sick, and uh… the doctors say there's nothing they can do. Um…but, uh, they don't know the things we know, right? So, don't worry, 'cause I'm uh…gonna do whatever it takes to get him better. Alright… just wanted you to know.**_**" **_**– **__**Sam Winchester**_

_**Damon Salvatore:**_** "**_**Any news on the Stanley front, or is he still AWOL?**_**" **_**Logan Fell:**_** "**_**Cupcake, he's been AWOL for eight years.**_**"**

"_**The tomb's open and Sheila Bennett's dead. Her granddaughter is still a novice and even if she isn't, she ditched town.**_**" **_**– **__**John Gilbert**_

"_**Now that's what I call a Christmas tree. Isn't that gorgeous? The holidays are all about being with loved ones, and I think that's what makes this tradition so special in our town. It's a reminder that no matter where you turn, you have a friend.**_**" **_**– **__**Elizabeth Forbes**_

"_**I get the feeling that Logan's hiding something. Just can't put my finger on it. But he's been whispering with those Salvatores for a while now. Gotta say, Carol, I find it very fishy.**_**" **_**– **__**Richard Lockwood**_

_**Caroline Forbes:**_** "**_**Biggest mistake of junior year… Including the boys in secret santa. Stefan is officially the worst gift giver.**_**" **_**Elena Gilbert:**_** "**_**He got you a snow globe?**_**" **_**Caroline Forbes:**_** "**_**Yeah, of Mystic Falls, as if I don't see enough of this town every day as it is.**_**"**

"_**So, apparently this guy, Dean Winchester, he's some serial killer and is dead. But that's the guy from my nightmare. I know it is! Why would I see in my sleep, the transformation of a four-year-old to a serial killer?**_**" **_**– **__**Snow Silverstone**_

"_**What I wanna know is why we're spending a perfectly nice Christmas Eve discussing serial killers.**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert**_

_**Sam Winchester:**_** "**_**But if you know evil's out there, how can you not believe good's out there, too?**_**" **_**Dean Winchester:**_** "**_**Because I've seen what evil does to good people.**_**"**

"_**It is not Dean Winchester's time to die, Reaper. He has yet to serve his purpose. Let the Reverend heal the righteous man.**_**" **_**– **__**Michael**_

"_**You told her. You told her the secret! Our big family rule number one. We do what we do and we shut up about it. For a year and a half I do nothing but lie to Jessica, and you go out with this chick in Ohio a coupla times and you tell her everything?**_**" **_**– **__**Sam Winchester (about Cassie to Dean)**_

"_**Did you hear? Someone's moved into town.**_**" **_**– **__**Caroline Forbes**_

* * *

**A/N:**** Sorry for the Cliffhanger!**

**Did this chapter meet your expectations? At long last, Supernatural Universe kicks off! I'm so excited! XD**

**(1) I know there's a lot of quotes but there's a huge time difference. Around a month passes between this chapter and the next, so I had to squeeze important parts in. Hope you enjoy them!**

**(2) So… is Azazel really after Snow, or is it just a dream? Finally all the hints I've been scattering around with Bree, Emily, Sheila and the quotes I inserted in the end of every chapter reached full circle. What do you think? Is it just a coincidence?**

**(3) This was, **_**again**_**, another Snow/Logan-centric chapter. Truthfully, like I've mentioned before, Logan is an extremely important character in this story, and since he's the OC's godfather, he's gonna show up a lot. Plus, I'm trying to NOT do a copy-paste of canon, not only is it very boring to write everything the same, but I believe the point of writing fanfiction is to deviate from canon (plus, as you can see, I skipped two episodes – I didn't see the point of writing about Elena and Stefan betraying Damon, and the opening of the tomb 'cause that'd just be copy-paste of canon), and I've got a lot of ideas. Especially since I root for underdogs, and I hate the fact that TVD killed off nearly every single character outside of the MF Gang, I mean, **_**really**_**? Whenever a new character got introduced, I made a bet with myself on their expiry date. LOL!**

**(4) What's going on with Snow? Is she an **_**empath**_**? Is she a **_**seer**_**? Did she have a premonition? Why doesn't her blood have a scent? Why are witches calling her 'Pure'… I'd love to read your ideas, but unfortunately, the complete reveal won't be happening anytime soon. I've already got the moment planned for everything about Snow and her nature to come to light. So be patient and enjoy the ride my lovely readers.**

**(5) Did you enjoy the Logan/Damon interaction? Again, I planned on it being very short, but then those two awesome vampires had me get carried away. Also, did you like how I incorporated TO? I'm slowly introducing the French Quarter Coven. Honestly, I don't know 100% where I'm going with the coven, but I'm fascinated with portraying how they were before the entire Harvest debacle happened. Will Logan play a role in the events? Will he quick Marcel's ass (P.S., I'm not a fan of Marcel, AT ALL!)… Okay, I'm getting ahead of myself, just spitballing here. LOL!**

**(6) SPN Universe: Phantom Traveler, Skin, Faith and Route 666.**

**A/N:**** I am dedicating this chapter to ****Alisha**** and ****Jess****; reading your reviews really inundated me with a surge of inspiration and had me grinning like an idiot XD, I just had to post this chapter up, pronto. In regards to this story, I've really been aiming to do the unexpected, which is why there are a lot of plot-twists up till now (and many, many **_**many**_** more to come!), so I'm absolutely psyched I managed to surprise you and have the opposite of your expectations occur. Also, the ending of this chapter is meant to pave the way to SPN Universe, so expect our favorite brothers to show up really soon! ;) Anyways, I hope this chapter is to your liking! Enjoy! XD**

**R&R.**


	15. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer:**** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters, ideas and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

_**CHAPTER 14:**_

**IT CAN'T BE ELIZABETH TAYLOR**

* * *

**Anomaly (**_**noun**_**): a person or thing that is different from what is usual; abnormal**

"_**I had always known the sky was full of mysteries, but not until now had I realized how full of them the earth was.**_**"**

"_**The sweetest smiles hold the darkest secrets…**_**"**

"_**If eyes are the window to the soul, then grief is the door. As long as it's closed, it's the barrier between knowing and not knowing. Walk away from it, and it stays closed forever. But open it and walk through it, and pain becomes truth.**_**"**

"_**If our grave was watered by the rain, would roses bloom? Could roses bloom again?**_**"**

* * *

Receiving a summons to Joshua's playground was an unprecedented anomaly, a notion forsaken for untold millennia since their Father's unforeseen departure. In the aftermath of God's abandonment, the Garden endured under Joshua's diligent care, and the center of Heaven metamorphosed into a state of perdurable seclusion. Occasionally, the higher-ups would visit the Garden to engage their reclusive brother in a laconic discourse, their mostly monosyllabic colloquy a series of probing questions consisting of God's whereabouts or His impending return. However, as one millennium progressed into two, and with the elapsing of countless millennia, any and all hope of their Father's return to Heaven vaporized into nothing and the Garden no longer played host to choleric inquisitors.

For this reason, when an unsuspecting angel of the Host sensed the mental intrusion of a telepathic communication instigated by a fellow Brother or Sister, with a summons to the Garden and a demand for secrecy, he reacted accordingly – immeasurable surprise coursed through him and deep down, a speck of intense hope began to blossom.

Lounging amidst the fraternity of galvanized angels, the venture of separating from his garrison without detection was a ridiculously easy feat to accomplish due to recent events. The slaying of Lucifer's Vessel's significant other incited the Vessels' search for the Prince of Hell, Azazel, and thus, spurred the initiation of the series of events that would ultimately lead to the implementation of the Apocalypse as its occurrence had been foretold thousands of years ago. A fraction of the Host, including himself, have been tasked with observing the two pesky mortals pivotal to the predestined end of the world, John and Dean Winchester, ensuring neither candidate meant to fill the position of the Righteous Man, died _before_ they had a chance to sell their soul.

Almost a fortnight back, a Rawhead almost succeeded in terminating the life of Dean Winchester, forcing Michael himself to intervene and prompting the Host to work overtime in fear of provoking the Archangel's wrath. Consequently, this worked in the summoned angel's favor as he was capable of disengaging from both, his garrison and the assignment without notification.

In less than no time, the angel crossed the threshold of Heaven's cynosure and became encapsulated in the canvas of green and gold foliage and brown copses of trees. Sensing his presence and exact location, he ethereally glided toward the Garden's sole inhabitant, his shimmery form pulsating with mirth, "Has trimming the hedges stultified you to the extent of summoning my presence, brother?"

Straightening from his crouched position, Joshua chuckled warmly at his younger brother's antics. Unlike with the higher-ups such as Michael, Raphael and Zachariah, Joshua found the other angel's lack of formality and eschewed usage of stilted words to be equal amount of endearing and refreshing; withal, those traits, exceptionally unique in an angel, are what led to him being chosen. "Ah, brother, your dulcet tones were sorely missed," Joshua teased.

That prompted a short bout of laughter, "Funny you should say that, Mr. Gardener. Can you believe mortals find the sound of my voice utterly deafening. Rude of them, I say." He then scoped the vicinity with his bright blues, a shard of disappointment lacing his otherworldly visage. Of course He wasn't here… the advent of God into Heaven would generate portents.

"I have received revelation, brother," Joshua articulated, cutting into his negative thoughts.

Impassive, he shrouded any vestige of hope with a drawl of apathy, "Is that right? So you _have_ spoken with God."

"God usually does all the talking, brother. I merely listen," Joshua reminded him, his tone mildly chiding. The younger angel emitted a noncommittal sound, "You might have mentioned it once…mayhap twice." He looked around then, expression bored, "Why am I here, Joshua?"

"Like I said, I have received revelation," the Gardener intoned blandly. "There is a task, brother. It is clandestine and you are meant to undertake it."

Intrigue fully restored, he squarely met Joshua's solemn gaze, sensing the untold secrets brimming in his vibrant eyes, "Task? From _whom_, Michael?"

Joshua's response was crisp and abrupt, "No. You know I do not take orders from either of our archangel brothers." He had a meaningful look in his eyes that elicited reverence from the younger angel. "It is _I_ delegating the assignment to you, brother. Should you choose to accept it, you shall be dispatched to a small town in North America, posthaste."

A mixture of reluctance and disgust featured heavily on his expression. "_Eurgh_, Joshua. _Brother_! You want _me_ to live amongst those hairless apes? You _know_ I have little tolerance for them," he admitted shamelessly. Just because he wasn't advocating for the extermination of the human race, did not mean, _in no uncertain terms_, that he loved humanity, and perhaps the reason _was_ born out of spite of God's abandonment.

"You are _not_ to interact with them. Merely _observe_. And you shall have no need for a vessel either," Joshua warned him sharply. At the younger angel's bemusement, he added, "For a limited amount of time. Once you have seen what you are supposed to see, you shall know and return promptly. _No one_ is to know of your assignment. _No one_. Not even Castiel or Uriel."

Suspicion colored his celestial visage, "You're being awfully cryptic, brother." However, the corner of his mouth crept upward in a sly smirk, "Luckily, I've been feeling quite tedious of Winchester Watch. I'll do it."

Effectively absconding Heaven unseen through a Heavenly Portal of Joshua's design, the impetuous angel traversed North America, only stopping once he reached a sign emblazoned with the words: 'Welcome to Mystic Falls'.

His head tilted to the side, the invisible celestial being chuckled to himself, "What a _quaint_ little town."

* * *

Almost a month had passed since that fateful night when the tomb got opened and Sheila Bennett died, and much had occurred. The moment Mystic Falls High School released the students for the winter holidays, a depressed and mourning Bonnie left town to stay with family, but despite the tragic losses in Mystic Falls, Christmas festivities commenced as usual and the town gathered together to enjoy the holidays. Most surprisingly, Stefan expected his brother to either ditch town in a fit of murderous rage or lash out _at the town _upon the discovery of Katherine's deception; however, other than his constant intake of alcohol and nightly indulgence in women were he fed from them _and _had sex with them, he didn't kill a single soul and remained _mostly_ sane.

In Snow's case, she was recovering swiftly from the successive surprises the first fortnight of December had in store for her. The sight of her melancholic best friend, who had recently been bereaved of her grandmother, snapped the raven-haired girl out of her catatonic state which subsequently encouraged a heart-to-heart between the girls that culminated in a sleepover at Logan's. With Bonnie gone, and Caroline unaware of the supernatural entities in existence, Snow and Elena were practically attached at the hip and constantly confided in each other whenever nasty doubts assailed them – Elena, regarding her probably _stupid_ decision to have Jeremy compelled as his obliviousness was what had him befriending a vampire with ill intent and almost led to his death, as well as her uneasiness with being a doppelgänger; Snow on the other hand, bemoaned her _probable _nonhuman status, the woes of feeling _everything_ profoundly, and the ugly fact that her father had been alive all this time and had her mourn him because he hadn't wanted her in his life.

Another surprising development to take place in Mystic Falls post-tomb, was the tenuous alliance between Logan and Damon. By no means were the two vampires with strong personalities friends, but they each developed a subtle soft spot for the other. The aftermath of Snow's spine-chilling nightmare prompted them to build an alliance for the sake of keeping her safe and secure both, from the unknown and another attempt at her life. Occasionally, Damon would stop by after Snow went to bed, and like the first night, would drink through Logan's bar in mutual silence. Other times, they'd sit side by side at the bar in Mystic Grill and poke fun at each other.

Moreover, while Snow maintained her silence regarding the evil being with yellow eyes that featured in her nightmare, it didn't mean she had forgotten about it. During bouts of solitude, Snow obsessed over it, mumbling to herself about the veracity of her nightmare coming to life, and the search engine's history in her laptop – _a Christmas present from Logan!_ – was overflowing with research regarding beings in possession of authentic yellow eyes, the lore of empaths, and strangely enough, Sam's, hoping she'd find the guy with a head of floppy brown hair from her dreams, whose mother and _girlfriend?_, died and whose brother ended up being a serial killer before succumbing to death as well.

All of which led to the impromptu meeting Logan assembled at the house.

Bleary-eyed and dressed in fashionable pajamas an ecstatic Carol had gotten her, Elena's drowsy, "What are _you two_ doing here?" snapped Snow's sleep-addled brain into awareness. Blinking, violet eyes landed on the three vampires congregated in the living room. Blinking again, Snow gauged her pajama-clad-self and messy bedhead, and then Elena's equally disheveled appearance, the brunette having had slept over much to Jenna's burgeoning disapproval.

Emitting an _eep!_ sound, Snow sheepishly smiled at the amused Salvatore brothers as she attempted to subtly hide herself behind Elena's form. An endeavor she failed at as Elena was intending the same with Snow. They didn't mind looking horrible in front of Logan or showing bare skin in his presence, he was their overprotective, cool uncle-figure. But two handsome vampires and, in Elena's case, her boyfriend's lecherous brother – _forget it!_

"Like I said, if I see something I haven't seen before, I'll throw a dollar at it," Damon drawled out, smirking broadly at the mortified girls. In unison, Logan and Stefan reached over and smacked the back of his head, drilling lethal glares into him that would have any lesser man running for the hills. Sending another glare at the vampire, Logan turned to address Snow and Elena with a smile, "How 'bout you girls shower and get dressed. I'll have breakfast ready for you then we all need to talk, 'kay?"

Wanting to probe the reason behind the early morning congregation, yet itching to escape the lingering gazes brushing their skin, especially Damon's shameless burning stare, they obediently retreated into Snow's room, taking it in turns to shower and dress. Laughing the incident off, after breakfast – the only meal Logan was _excellent_ at making – Snow and Elena squeezed into the three-seater sofa with Logan, and fixated the vampires with questioning eyes.

"So… what's up?" Elena finally asked, having enough of the staring contest.

Clearing his throat, Logan achieved eye contact with his goddaughter, her blood running cold and entire form stiffening at the sympathetic quirk to his lips, knowing without a doubt that _she_ was the reason for the impromptu gathering. "A lot's been happening. Stefan had a thought, and I agreed, that'd be best if we put our heads together and deliberate on _everything_. Maybe then, we can come to a solution, or know what to expect or keep an eye out on," Logan revealed, his tone kind and hazel eyes brimming with compassion.

Hesitant, Snow voiced out, "Like a, like a _brainstorming club_?"

"_Ughh_!" Damon groaned, eyes rolling aggressively before they glared heavenward. "When you put it like that, sounds lame. This isn't the Breakfast Club, you know."

"_Bottom line_!" Logan snarled out, throwing another warning glare at the irritating vampire he _still_ didn't know _why_ he was wasting his time humoring. "During these past few weeks, I've come to the realization that everyone's been holding on to a piece of a puzzle, and without connecting them, we're all left with more answers than questions."

A soft frown slowly started to materialize as Elena's perfectly plucked eyebrows snapped together, "Like what?"

Logan steepled his hands together and placed them under his chin. "_Like_," he drawled pointedly. "The night Snow got attacked-" the aforementioned girl couldn't wait for the day where she'd stop flinching at the mere mention of that _horrible _night, "-Damon was in Georgia, visiting a witch who mentioned something about the '_Pure_' being in danger of some looming darkness—"

Careless flippancy in his tone, Damon cut in, "In my defense, I thought Bree was spouting off nonsense to get me to spare her life." He then proceeded to roll his eyes in a '_can you believe it?_' demeanor. Elena glared at Damon, this being the first she's heard of the kind witch's death. An impressive glower taking over her soft features, the brunette hissed with as much vitriol as she could muster, "And _just_ when I think you're _not_ a self-serving psychopath with no redeeming qualities, you go ahead and prove me wrong."

A bark of laughter emanated from Logan's mouth, his head thrown backward due to the intensity of his laugh. Tears of mirth brimming in his mischievous hazel eyes, he formed a fist and offered it to Elena, "That's my girl! _Absolutely_ _priceless_. Come on, Princess. Pound it."

Her anger slowly draining, Elena giggled and bumped her fist with Logan's proffered one. Stefan coughed to disguise a laugh while Damon compressed his lips together in a tight-lipped smile, eyes portraying anything _but_ amusement. Snow however, frowned, "You _killed_ someone?"

"Okay, moral police, let's not do that guilt-trip crap right now. I killed her. It's been a month. It's done, it's irreversible. So, let's move on," Damon snarked, stomping on the guilt Snow Silverstone had a knack for awakening with a mere look. _Damn doe eyes!_

Before Snow could counter with a sad retort, something along the lines of Bree having been his friend, the endeavor was drowned by Stefan. "We're digressing," he stated, matter-of-factly. "Point is, according to Bonnie, Emily called _you_, Snow, the _Pure_ and claimed you must be protected. Same as Bree had."

Both Logan and Elena grimaced, the latter saying, "Yeah, I can see what you meant by puzzle pieces, Logan." And usually, Logan would make a good-natured retort to call him _Uncle Logan_, followed by the fact he had changed her diapers once or twice and therefore deserved the title. But the situation had no room for levity. "Exactly," Logan uttered grimly, hazels orbs possessing a haunted quality.

Terrified, Snow whispered, "You think it's connected to the nightmare I had?" It was the first time Snow willingly brought the topic up since it happened, and Stefan and Elena were aware of the occurrence because of Damon. Damon had told Stefan, who, _naturally_, confided in Elena.

"_Nah_," Damon denied abruptly, a relaxed smirk on his face. "I'm sure it was just a nightmare. No need to get our panties twisted over nothing."

Logan disagreed. "_I_ wouldn't rule it out." At the dual expressions of fear on Snow and Elena's gorgeous visages, he solemnly elucidated, "I don't want to frighten you, I'd never want that, but I'm not gonna lie, either. We can't bury our heads under the sand in denial. I, for one, firmly believe that in the supernatural community, coincidences _don't_ _just happen_. It _cannot_ be a coincidence. Dead and alive, the witches keep talking about some mystical darkness and they're pretty damn sure it's after you, Jellybean. I'd rather be prepared and equipped to protect you, than remain blind."

Despite her quivering form and the way she burrowed herself deeper into the sofa, all the while ensuring she kept tactile contact with Logan and Elena, she nodded bravely and didn't avert the four pairs of eyes wholly fixated on her. "Like it's not enough I have some hitman after me, I've got supernatural entities gunning after me _too_. I never did anything to anyone," she huffed out, sounding more than a little petulant. "It's not, _it's not fair_! What's the point in being nice all the time and not pissing anyone off!? I hate being a _stupid empath_, maybe if I was incapable of feeling emotions then—"

"Hey, _hey_," Elena shushed her, placing an arm around her kind-hearted friend. "The fact that you're who _you are_ is _why_ you have so many people on _your side_. I wouldn't be willing to protect some asshole. No one would. You've got _us_, Snow. Hell, you even have dead witches on your side! No one can say that, can they? And we're not going _anywhere_, you hear me?"

Muttering to himself, Damon could be heard loud and clear by the other two in the room with enhanced hearing, "Why do I feel like that was a verbal attack against me?"

Eyes rolling in unison, Stefan and Logan simultaneously shook their heads in exasperation.

"On another note." Desperate to change the subject and prevent the tears from welling in his goddaughter's eyes, Logan broached a topic that had been subject to much controversy throughout the month, "About that serial killer you uh, _dreamt about_? I had a buddy of mine from New Orleans PD send me a copy of the case file."

Confused, Elena interrupted, "Wait, why didn't you just ask Sheriff Forbes?"

"I'd rather not bring Liz's suspicion into all this. If it ain't children or vampire related, I'd rather keep her out," Logan smirked, a wicked glint brewing in the depths of his hazel orbs. "Woman's relentless. Wouldn't let it go. Then she'd bring Rich into this and we _do not_ need the Sheriff and the Mayor sniffing into all this." Nodding in comprehension, Elena motioned for him to continue, wanting Snow's obsession with those brothers to end once and for all. "Anyways, got a name: Dean Winchester. There's a lot of holes, though. No identification found on him but an impressive collection of weapons, so that's all they got," he divulged, apologetic at the lack of information. "He _did_ hint that the FBI probably got more, but the Feds are big league, my buddy Kinney couldn't rattle that nest without getting caught."

Regardless, Snow relayed her gratitude with an open-mouthed smile, flashing her set of pearly whites, "It doesn't matter, I've got enough. Now with a last name, I can easily find Sam."

"Why are you so determined to find this guy?" Stefan inquired, brows furrowed in a mixture of confused concern. Lowering her gaze, Snow shrugged a shoulder; though despite the nonchalance she portrayed, her following words resonated through them, "I just, I feel like there's this…_connection_. I mean, I witnessed his mother and then his girlfriend _die_, and _all that was before_ that yellow-eyed being of _pure_ evil threatened me. I just don't think it'd be a smart move to ignore it. I think it's a message."

A set smile crept its way onto Logan's face, effectively veiling his grave thoughts from his goddaughter and her best friend. The truth of the matter was Snow's vivid dreams, which were made more alarming by the fact that they're based on _real_ people and not merely a fabrication of her overactive imagination, evoked reasons of worry and concern from him _much_ _more_ than her empathic abilities and her strange lack of scent did.

* * *

Donning his most charming smile, Logan gracefully pivoted around, glass of scotch held loosely in his hand and he inclined his head in greeting and sent a few winks at the gaggle of _annoyingly _loud, _shamelessly_ salivating, and _mindlessly_ tittering women, all of whom were diehard Logan Fell fans – vociferous, ingratiating and unctuous. A familiar face with clunky glasses and a large smile amidst his fawning crowd stood out and he belatedly recognized her as Shannon from Medical Records. Bringing his drink up and consuming a mouthful, Logan smirked slyly around the rim of the glass, mentally patting himself for compelling her to forget about his little pit-stop.

Once more, his alluring pair of hazels fell on Jenna. This time, she was full-on glaring at him.

Sighing to himself, he chugged back his drink and promptly knocked on the bar, ordering another. For the past half hour since stepping into the Grill, Logan's been oscillating between Carol, Jenna, and his fans. The Mayor's wife merely met his glare of promised retribution with a smug smile and a finger-wiggle wave, and Jenna stubbornly quashed the magnetic effects of his stare and alternated between hatefully glaring at him and following the history teacher's movement with wistful eyes.

Hearing a familiar voice call out his name, Logan huffed out a groan of relief, "Stefan. Sit, sit, pull up a stool." He then proceeded to subtly position Stefan's form in a way that successfully blocked him from his fan base's myriad of longing stares. Amused, Stefan briefly focused on the glass of scotch, "Liquid courage?"

"That _damn_ harridan!" Logan grumbled after an intake of scotch. "She didn't even _ask_, you know?" he harrumphed, throwing another glare at Carol Lockwood's direction. "There's a protocol, a _formality_. Before you truss someone up like a turkey and put them on display for the hyenas to salivate over, _you ask_. I feel objectified!" And not even allowing Stefan a chance to get a word in, Logan continued to rant and get everything off his chest, "Her and Liz are competing on who'd get the most eligible bachelor. Liz got Damon to come and Carol, oh _that nag knew_ I'm not interested. Every year she asks, and every year I refuse. _That bitch_. No one doles out revenge better than a Fell. Let her wait, I'll show 'er."

Forest green orbs squinting in mock thought, Stefan, his amusement having intensified throughout Logan's angry rant, said, "I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say you're _not thrilled_ to be a part of the Fundraiser."

He speared Stefan with a glare, "No shit, Sherlock!" His eyes then narrowed on Alaric and Jenna, the former looking incredibly uncomfortable and the latter mildly apologetic. "What's worse is the heads up Elena gave me. Jenna's got her heart set on winning Alaric. But on the plus side-" a wicked smirk graced his features, "-Princess pretty much admitted she'd rather have her aunt date me." He took note of Stefan's burning stare. "_What_?"

"You're a great guardian to Snow, and her friends, they love you. You're great with them," Stefan stated matter-of-factly, his forest greens two orbs brimming with suspicion. Logan did an '_annnddd?_' face, gesturing with a hand to continue. "But in reality, you're the devil in disguise. And up till now, we've only seen your good side."

A wolfish grin settled on Logan's face and he winked, "Don't you forget it, Stef. Anyway, you don't want to see my bad side. _Trust me_." He clapped the broody vampire on the shoulder and turned his attention back to his drink, "So, what can I do for you?"

"You know about Isobel, right?" Stefan prefaced, analyzing the other vampire carefully. Quickly swallowing, Logan lowered his glass and squarely met the pair of forest-greens. "Yeah, uh, Snow told me. Y'know-" he shook his head in a rueful manner, "-I would've _never_ guessed Elena isn't a Gilbert. I mean, she's got their traits in spades. But yeah, I know about it, Snow asked if she could accompany Elena to that Peterson woman. _Why_?"

And didn't he experience a zing of shock when a frantic Snow called him shortly after their visit to Trudie Peterson, informing him of the shady character that had been watching them across the street from her house. Even outside of Mystic Falls, those two girls couldn't catch a break. He was beginning to think he'd have to invest in a leash…

In response, Stefan laid out the picture of Isobel that Alaric had given him in hopes of receiving enlightenment from Damon – _which was a bust_. "That's Isobel. Di—"

"Wait, I-, I _know her_," Logan gasped, recognition flickering in the depths of his eyes. "Isobel Flemming! Am I right?" he looked at Stefan who nodded, his eyes having gone wide. "She was head cheerleader at Grove Hill High. I was one of the stars of the Mystic Falls High's football team and sometimes, we'd go over to them or them, us. _Wow_… come to think of it, I vaguely remember some chatter about a cheerleader getting pregnant. Small world," he emitted a long whistle.

Still sporting wide eyes, Stefan agreed, "Extremely." A sudden thought struck him and he looked uncomfortable, "You didn't, uh… You and her-"

Chuckling, Logan clapped his back, "You can relax, Stefan. Isobel and I _never_ did the horizontal tango. Nah. I'm not into the dark and silent type. I go for the bright and carefree ones."

But Stefan had inadvertently succeeded in lighting a fire under Logan. He was attacked by a moment of clarity, capable of looking at the onslaught of memories from the past that were infiltrating the recess of his mind in a different light. During senior year, upon visiting Grove Hill for the championship, Isobel Flemming had been replaced as head cheerleader by a spunky redhead with cat-like green eyes – Monica Grace. She had _instantly_ grabbed his attention with her bright aura, sharp tongue, quick wit and infectious laugh, and he was hooked. For the remaining half of senior year, Logan initiated a secret affair with Monica, incessantly cheating on Jenna in the process as he commuted between towns. Eighteen-year-old Logan was thrilled at the prospect of dating two gorgeous girls at the same time and having grown complacent, he slipped up and Jenna discovered his duplicity. Adding salt to the wound, while Jenna didn't even think twice about breaking off their relationship, Monica resumed dating him and they remained together until the cessation of their freshman year at college.

It made perfect sense now… At the time, Isobel had been pregnant with Elena and Monica replaced her which in turn, set the future events into action. Such a small, _tiny world…_

"Logan!"

Snapped out of his reverie, Logan forced a painful smile at Richard, "What can I do for you, Rich."

Eyebrows arched, there was an amused tilt to Richard's mouth. "For starters, you can wipe that fake smile off your face. Your beef's with Carol not me. Although I'd have thought you'd be chomping at the bit to flaunt your bachelor status." Hearing Logan grumble, Richard smirked and drank from his glass. "You know, I'm surprised there hasn't been a trail of women leaving your place," he mused aloud, and while he kept his tone light, his eyes were solemn.

"I'm not currently interested in putting myself on the market, Rich. However, it _does _make me wonder…are you watching me?" The predator in Logan wanted to claw his way out and attack the Mayor at the mere probability, but since he grew up with Richard, he maintained perfect composure and adopted an equally light tone, "Staking my place out in a van, perhaps."

Richard scoffed, "I've better things to do than monitor your sexscapades, Logan."

However, before any more words could be traded, and before Richard could satisfy his curiosity regarding the strange interactions he'd been witnessing between Logan and the Salvatore brothers, Snow and Elena stepped into the Grill, waving at Logan before approaching Jenna just in the nick of time as Carol got on stage. Grumpily, Logan deposited his drink on the bar, "Well, if you'll excuse me, Richard, I've got a date to make."

Naturally, with Damon Salvatore involved, trouble lurked nearby. A nice fundraiser where the eligible bachelors of Mystic Falls were supposed to stand in a straight line like cattle for sale subtly ended in disaster as Damon was the last bachelor to be questioned. To the congregation that managed to squeeze into the Grill, it may have sounded like Damon was being himself, which was a _dick_, by broadcasting the fact that he had sex with Alaric Saltzman's wife, but to the vampires in the room, Elena, Snow, and the history teacher himself, they automatically knew the elder Salvatore was boasting about his kill – a consequence of Stefan's many inquiries about Isobel and Alaric's shady attitude toward him.

Delegating the task of ensuring Snow got home safely to Stefan and simultaneously stay far away from the Damon-drama he could _feel _brewing on the horizon, as Logan had absolutely no doubt _whatsoever_ that Alaric would be coming after the volatile vampire in revenge, Logan steeled himself for the lucky lady he'd be spending the remainder of the night with. While he would've rather kept Snow and Elena company – the brunette most probably a mess at the disclosure her mother was yet _another_ victim of Damon's – and guaranteed their safety, unfortunately for Logan, he couldn't evoke Carol's wrath or suspicions by ditching. Besides, he already had one Lockwood hoarding suspicious thoughts about him; Logan wasn't the least bit fooled by the exchange of niceties Richard initiated, having _instantly_ recognized the Mayor's efforts to gather information through casual nonchalance.

_God, _he hoped it wasn't Shannon, or some sycophantic fan.

"Well, well, _well_. What do you know…Mystic Falls' very own celebrity is mine for the night."

The extremely familiar silvery voice pervaded the air behind him, prompting Logan to stop short, his posture literally freezing in place. "_It can't be…_" he murmured to himself in an undertone. Yanking his hazel eyes from Jenna's dejected form, Logan spun round, only for them to land on a gorgeous, curvaceous woman with a bronze complexion and a genuine, open-mouthed smile, displaying an upper row of straight, white teeth. Sly emerald eyes set in an oval face gleamed at him, a mischievous quirk in her crimson-painted lips, and her dark mahogany hair cascaded down her back in thick waves. She looked fantastic and elegant in a cashmere oversized cream turtleneck sweater paired with tight black leather pants and high-heeled ankle boots.

His lips curled into a cheeky grin. "You cheated," he stated knowingly.

A sound similar to '_duh_' emanated from the beautiful stranger and with her arms akimbo, she cocked her hip to one side. "_Of course_ I did, Gunny. How _else_ was I supposed to win you? _Besides_, you should be _thanking_ me," a strain of cockiness seeped into her tone. "Your diehard fans weren't happy. not. _one_. bit. D'you _know_ how many of them I _literally_ had to _fight through_ to get to you? _Jeez_!"

"Oh, I'm definitely thankful," Logan assured her. Performing a come-hither motion with her hand, she demanded, "_Well_, Casanova, you gonna give me a proper hello, or what?"

Genuine laughter escaped him as they crossed the remaining distance and engulfed each other in a tight embrace, Logan lifting her off the ground and twirling her around in perfect circles while she playfully smacked his back and mockingly demanded that he put her down, their combined laughter drawing attention. Hands on her shoulders, he pulled her back to get a good look at her, eyes twinkling madly, "You're the one who recently moved in."

"Just two blocks away from you, _neighbor_," she retorted promptly, her grin unwavering. Logan's grin reflected hers, "It's great to see you, Danica. I was hoping Sophie'd sent you."

The beautiful stranger – _Danica_, let out a sharp bark of laughter, her eyes performing a half-roll, "_Sophie_ didn't send me. _Josephine_ did; was forced to step in. You know how _embarrassing _it is to have the Regent intrude on coven business because we're fighting among ourselves like silly children? If you ask me-"

"Which I _didn't_!" he cut in.

Acting as though no interruption occurred from a particular somebody in major denial, Danica proceeded to blurt out, "-I'd say Sophie's jealous. I said it before, and gosh darn it I'll say it again, that woman's crushing on you, _and hard_! She sees me as a threat which is _ridiculous_ because-"

Interrupting once more, Logan sounded like he was reciting a boring speech that had been drilled into his head over and over again, "We're best friends and do not see each other that way." Voice back to normal, Logan informed her, "I've told you this already, Dani. Sophie _doesn't_ have feelings for me, and even if she does, I'm not interested." Changing the subject, he asked, "Did munchkin come with?"

Glaring at him, she reluctantly let the subject drop. "Like I'd let Davina out of my sight," she scoffed. Looking around swiftly, her sharp gaze immediately landed on Caroline who sat at the till, handing out tickets, "Left her with that nice blonde over there. Heard some MILF wannabe trash talking the poor girl about not being good enough for her son, so I trashed her skanky ass. The kid insisted on watching Davina as a thank-you."

Logan whistled, "_Damn_, I would've paid to see Kelly Donovan get a taste of her own medicine."

Just then, a childish squeal of "_LOGAN!_" reverberated around him and a small body knocked into him, arms automatically wrapping tightly around his waist. He grinned down at the adorable eleven-year-old with a head of wild mahogany curls, who was staring up at him with large blue eyes. Crouching down, he lifted her into his arms, "Now that you're here, Munchkin, I gotta tell you, this is the best date _ever_. So what do you want to do?"

Giggling, Davina wrapped her arms around the vampire's neck in a strangling hold, "Chinese and ice cream!"

"Like old times," Danica chuckled.

As the trio left the Grill, Jenna's glare seared a hole through Logan's retreating back, surprised by the unexpected sensation of jealousy that coursed through her.

* * *

Almost seven mortal days have elapsed, and during the celestial infiltrator's aimless wanderings throughout Mystic Falls, he had arrived at many _interesting _conclusions.

This aptly baptized _quaint_ town, Mystic Falls, was truly sinistrous and minacious with necromantic undertones. Each and every weathered and eroded rock in the mortal town vibrated with nefarious magic that dated back aeons; the very air in which the hairless apes breathed resonated with potent magic. However, it wasn't merely the very foundation of which the town was built on that intrigued him… it was the population itself.

Non-mortals inhabited the land.

_Monsters_…

Strange blood-sucking fiends that were _in no way_ spawns of Eve roamed past his invisible form, interacting normally around mortals, befriending them, living alongside them in harmony, battling their frenzy for blood. He observed around two dozen of those aberrant monsters crawl their way out of some odd underground tomb that resonated with the aftereffects of light, protective magic, though he effortlessly sensed the barrier keeping them from the mortal world to have disintegrated, and had been for quite some time.

Moreover, upon closer inspection he realized these _monsters_ were fashioned from _black magic_. The trillion upon trillions of regenerating cells in their unnatural body were imbued with said magic; husks reanimated through necromancy. Another perplexing matter was the bearers of magic, a mother daughter duo he discovered to be recent additions to the sinistrous town. Yet they were in full possession of their souls, and what bright untainted souls they were.

He shook his head; too much had Heaven been preoccupied with the predestined Apocalypse, ignorance of the evolvement of monsters had been inadvertently encouraged.

"_Fine_!" he grumbled, changing course. Ejecting a slew of Enochian imprecations, the celestial being finally surrendered to the lure niggling at his mind, like the cry of a banshee or the siren's song from Greek Paganism beckoning him forward. Utilizing his wings, at the speed of light, he appeared before a grand manor that exuded power, royalty, and history. An old winding stone path led to the colossal edifice which he followed; despite the environs' historical vibe and the archaic layout, the architecture was modern in comparison…mayhap a century-old if he were to blindly compare the structure to those scattered throughout the town.

Something _in this vicinity_ beckoned him, coaxing him forward, beguiling his mind. It was plaguing and extremely disconcerting. Bright, fathomless eyes scoured the premises for the enchantment that was almost succeeding in bewitching him. Alas, before he could narrow it down, his ethereal form about to check the secret partition he sensed to be situated beneath the very ground he stood, a nasal voice filled with loathing assailed his aural faculty and he tilted his head in synchronization with the opening of the heavy oak door that led to the structure's interior.

The being – _a female!_ – that appeared in his line of vision had an aura as bright and as colorful and as _pure_ as her eyes: A profound shade of violet… _an ethereal violet._

He didn't think his celestial form was capable of such reactions – his chest tightened, his entire body went cold and his grace leapt into his throat. Forcing his faculties to function, he methodically stalked her movement, fathomless eyes narrowing the instant he detected her entering one of the monsters' driving contraption.

_And he knew…_

Dismissing the mystery enchantment's allure, he proceeded to pursue the enigmatic being with the violet aura, knowing for certain that _she_ was the task.

* * *

If Snow were to choose one word to describe the entire atmosphere of the Grill, it would be _overwhelming_. The air around her pulsated with a nerve-wracking tension, it took everything in her not to faint. The anxiety threatened to consume her but Snow stayed seated in the booth, halfheartedly listening to the conversation permeate the thin bubble that encapsulated her table while her violet eyes moved with the alertness that accompanied the heavy stress of being assaulted by a mishmash of negative emotions, and her hands involuntarily remained clenched underneath the table.

At school that day, Caroline, who was starting to collapse under the weight of the large boulder that typified her lack of self-esteem, brilliantly came up with the suggestion that _since_ the couple dynamics have changed, Elena, Stefan, Matt and herself should go on a double date in order to eliminate the awkwardness between the girls and Matt _as well as_ ensuring her boyfriend realized Elena and Stefan were happy together, prompting him to _finally_ let go of his love for Elena, once and for all.

Thankfully, Snow already had plans that night as she wasn't the _least _bit interested in being the pathetic fifth wheel, knowing that Elena and Caroline's adamant cajoles that she accompany them would have eventually wore her down. It didn't hurt that Snow was completely incapable of disappointing her friends.

While she'd known about Logan's witch friend's arrival in Mystic Falls along with her daughter, Snow had yet to meet them face-to-face. Since the fundraiser that took place a week ago, Snow's been avoiding her godfather's house. She'd alternate most of her time either at her Manor, the Grill, Elena's, or Caroline's… and she despised it. She missed her amazing bedroom at Logan's. She missed his company and the affection he constantly showered her with. _She missed feeling comfortable and loved and at home._

_Truth_? Snow was _insanely _uncomfortable by the Claires' appearance in _her town_ and with them barging into her private life. Because that's _exactly_ what their arrival signified. Danica Claire moved into Mystic Falls to _spy on her_ – to put it bluntly; the witch may be a perfectly nice woman and Snow trusted her godfather wholeheartedly, but… the brokenhearted girl residing inside of Snow found the mere notion of playing nice with the witch and making her job easier wholly unappealing, none of it sitting well with her. '_If Dad wants to know anything about me, he should come himself instead of sending minions to spy on me!_' she grumbled to herself, the acid coating her tongue and the bubble of bitterness in her belly that expanded with each passing day, a foreign sensation and Snow _hated it_.

Instantly realizing Snow had been going out of her way to avoid his friend, Logan _insisted_ he pick her up that night as her presence was required at the Grill where they'd be having dinner with Danica and Davina. Having no other choice, Snow grudgingly agreed… Leading to where she currently sat, in a booth with the trio.

If Snow thought the night couldn't get any worse, what with her heart on her sleeves – dripping, bleeding, abandoned, crying out at the unfairness of _everything_ – and battling the awkwardness from the double date occurring at the other end of the Grill, she was _sorely_ mistaken.

Sitting on the bar, inappropriately drunk and adding another coat of tension to the thick atmosphere was the pièce de résistance: Damon, Jenna and Kelly.

Caroline felt insecure and inadequate; her usually bright and bubbly persona replaced by terror and irritation at Elena, a shard of envy stabbing into her as the blonde glared at the laughing brunette. Stefan simply felt awkward, the tension Caroline radiated eating at him, though a part of him enjoyed the insight into Elena's past. Poor indecisive Matt felt torn; the guilt ate at him, but he couldn't kill his feelings for Elena, longing and wistfulness consuming him; then, he'd look at Caroline and joy wrapped around his heart, followed by another round of guilt. Then a potent round of disappointment, embarrassment, resentment and anger flooded him at the sight of his mother getting drunk and flirting with Damon Salvatore. On the other hand, Elena was a breath of fresh air; while slightly uncomfortable, she radiated profound happiness, ecstatic at the drama-free night… until she returned from the bathroom with Caroline, profound fear and anxiety blanketing her. Her emotions were apparently contagious, for no sooner had she joined him, did Stefan send waves of fear and suspicion, and a mild hint of anger.

At the bar, the emotions wreaking havoc in Damon prompted Snow to suppress the strong desire to collapse on the ground and break into tears. The elder Salvatore was _utterly _heartbroken; self-hatred coursed through him and he felt confused and lost, like he was drowning in the merciless clutches of the sea. Kelly Donovan on the other hand, sent a disgusting amount of lust, her calculating green eyes basically undressing Damon's form, not a shred of dignity or mortification enveloping her in regards to the fact that she was shamelessly attempting to seduce a 'younger man' in the same room as her seventeen-year-old son and his friends. Envy embraced Jenna – the toxic sensation had a tight hold on the kind woman as she glared daggers at Logan and Danica; insecurity, loathing and shame attacked her, its blows unmerciful.

Blinking rapidly, Snow fought the darkness that slowly began to infiltrate the corner of her eyes, her nails digging into her palms. Focusing on her table and the conversation flow, grabbing onto the sound of Logan's laughter as though it were a lifeline, it was a herculean effort, but Snow succeeded and the blackness ebbed.

A short breath of laughter left her mouth, thrilled at her accomplishment. Unfortunately, the sound she produced had the spotlight shine on her. "Snow?" Logan inquired, a small crease between his brows. "You've been awfully quiet, honey."

"Oh, that's probably my fault. I have a tendency to ramble sometimes," Danica laughed, eyes kind and encouraging, pleading with her to contribute.

The sound of _her_ voice despite the genuine kindness she radiated, hit Snow like a freight train and the suffocating sensation returned with a vengeance, overwhelming her. Danica Claire provoked alien sentiments to rumble through the kindhearted girl and she _hated it_. She wanted her gone! To leave Mystic Falls and never return.

She stood up abruptly. Three pairs of eyes fixated on her in concern and Snow blurted out, "Bathroom!" before she ran off, not giving Danica the opportunity to invite herself as she sensed she would. Danica reeked of desperation as she wanted Snow to like her, something she was a hundred percent against.

However, instead of ducking into the bathroom, Snow stealthily snuck outside, the cold wind whipping past her and the night's silence calming the influx of negative emotions addling her brain and thus, allowed her to regain total control of her thoughts. An exhale of relief left her and she leaned against the wall, her face buried in her open hands.

Regrettably, it wasn't meant to last.

"Bad night?"

Sucking a sharp intake of breath, the hair on the nape of her neck stood at the voice. Warily, her eyes lifted, connecting with the penetrating pair of blues belonging to Joshua Reeves, Snow's very own stalker. "Josh-Joshua, I-I, I was just going i-in," she managed to articulate, quickly turning around to head inside. The firm grip circling her upper arm halted her in her tracks and against her own accord, her eyes shuttered. "Please, leave me alone. _Please_." Honest to _God_, Snow didn't know _why_ she thought pleading with Joshua would make a difference – it never did.

All of a sudden, she jumped, startled by his breath as it fanned her right cheek, not a whiff of alcohol assaulting her nostrils, which, in her opinion, only made the situation worse. The startling realization that even when Joshua was _in control_ of his actions he preferred to win her over through harassment made him a much more terrifying individual. It meant he couldn't be reasoned with. But before she could plead with him some more, or he could make a move on her, a heavenly voice cut through the air – her perennial savior.

"What's happening here?"

Joshua's looming presence disappeared and Snow immediately took a step toward Logan, creating a sufficient amount of distance between her and the furious senior. With a shrug and a forced smile, Joshua said, "I was just asking about Snow's night, sir. Anyways, my friends are probably wondering where I am. Gotta bounce." But before he left, he deliberately met the pair of frightened violets from over his shoulder and performed a jaunty wave, "See you around, Snow."

The threat, the _promise_ in those three innocuous words didn't escape Snow and she promptly wrapped her arms around herself. Wrongfully assuming his goddaughter felt cold, Logan shrugged off his coat and slipped it around her before he tugged her further outside, "C'mon. We're leaving. You'll be sleeping over tonight and I'm not taking no for answer."

Something in his tone had her head snap upwards, profusely confused. Logan never forced Snow into anything…._never_!Even when she adamantly avoided his house, which inevitably evoked his suspicions, he didn't force her into confiding her reasons. "Why? What's going on, Uncle Logan?"

Grimacing, his hazel eyes were on full alert, scoping each and every thing or person that lay in their path. "The tomb vampires are out and about. Apparently, they're _not_ in the tomb. Don't ask me how. I only know because one outed himself by calling Elena '_Katherine_'." Sensing her full-body shiver, he gently pushed her into the car and, after starting the engine, peeled out down the street. "One thing I _can_ assure you, is they're out for revenge. And since you and I are part of the Founding Families, we're fair game."

* * *

Dispensing with the usual niceties, the split-second the front door swung open, Damon shouldered past Logan, "Doesn't anyone answer their phones anymore!?"

Taken aback by the vampire's sudden appearance and the profound insolence he portrayed through the method in which he barged into his house, Logan sarcastically sneered, "Oh please, _do come in_." Inwardly, he fumed at Damon's capability to trespass whenever he desired; it was his only regret when he gave his goddaughter free will to make her own decisions in his attempt to decondition her from Lucille's abhorrent training and put an end to her inhumane rules.

Intense blue eyes alert as they flickered throughout the house's interior, and jaw taut, Damon dismissed the sarcastic attack and tersely demanded, "Is Stefan here?"

Before Logan could process the unanticipated non sequitur, Elena's smoky voice pervaded from the threshold, "According to Damon he went to the woods to feed and didn't come back."

Startled, Logan sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, "Sorry, Princess. I didn't notice you; was preoccupied." He glared at Damon in emphasis, who responded by lazily rolling his eyes. Bitterly thinking about her wake-up call, Elena closed the door behind her and sent Logan a commiserating smile, "Yeah, Damon has a certain effect on people."

"What's going on?" Snow's sweet voice suffused the room. The raven-haired girl frowned, bemused and concerned, her gaze flickering between Elena and Damon. When Damon informed her of the latest conundrum, she wringed her wrist, nervously boring a hole through the living room floor, "_Where_ could he be? Why would he be missing in the _first place_?"

That astute inquiry prompted a moue from Elena while Damon sneered. A scowl of recognition darkened Logan's handsome features, "That's right. Why _would he_ be missing?"

"I _was_ gonna tell you," Damon prefaced, his tone deceptively light, almost like he were consoling Logan. "Last night, two vampires from the tomb paid us a visit at the Boarding House. Stefan managed to kill one so the other bailed. Now I'm thinking, it's no coincidence Stefan's missing. _Damn it, Stefan_!" he hissed, briefly displaying his fear for his brother. "He got stabbed and went to feed. They must've followed him to the woods and cornered him."

'…_and with him weak from last night and not feeding on people blood, he didn't stand a chance,_' remained unsaid.

An infusion of snark in her voice, Elena groused out, "Yeah, heads-up, _all_ the vampires have been released from the tomb _and_ here's the cherry on top, Damon made a deal with Pearl to get Katherine back. He doesn't know the _meaning of_ rejection."

A growl vibrated in Damon's throat. "Oh my _God_, I turned your mother into a vampire. _Get over it_ already!" he snapped sounding very much like a teenager annoyed with his mother, irregardless of the menacing look he pulled off.

"You _what_?" Snow gasped, shock eliciting her eyes to widen. Logan, too, appeared stunned. "Is there _anything else_ we should know?" he demanded.

Rearranging his expression into one of mock contemplation, Damon flippantly offered, "_Well_, unless Stefan didn't tell you about the history teacher's brush with death—"

Another shocked "_What?_" from Snow met his retort.

"I'm guessing that's a '_no'_." Huffing, Damon shrugged a shoulder in nonchalance, "The guy _attacked_ me. I retaliated. He died and got resurrected by some ring Isobel gave him. _The_ _end_. Now-" he clapped his hands together, expression determined, "-if you'll excuse me, I need to bust down Pearl's door and get Saint Stefan back."

Blocking the impetuous vampire's path to the door, Logan firmly disagreed, "_No_, what you need is a locator spell. I doubt they'd be _that stupid_ to take Stefan to a location you know about."

Damon sarcastically retorted, "Too bad Mystic Falls' is fresh out of witches."

"Oh goodie, something you _don't know_," Logan bit back, the wicked glint in his eyes a reflection of his smile.

And to Snow's visible disappointment, he took them to the Claire Residence. The group barely touched the doorstep. The door opened with unnecessary force and Danica stepped out, arms crossed against her chest, an eyebrow arched and green eyes narrowed. "Logan, this is a surprise. What's with the army you've brought on my doorstep?" she sounded quite upset, which had Logan wincing in apology and Snow's frown to deepen.

Smiling disarmingly, Logan shoved a hand into his coat pocket, "I'm sorry 'bout this, Dani. I need a quick locator spell."

Suffice to say, Damon received a sting of vehement surprise when the witch, Danica, readily agreed without so much as volleying back a single threat, dragging her feet, or demanding a favor in return. In his lifetime, he had many experiences with witches, and none of them portrayed pleasure or the willingness to come to a vampire's aid. They were natural enemies – like it were written in the bylaws or something. So to see the newbie vampire surrounded by willing witches was a huge shock… and a hit to his ego.

Danica held the door open, a tight smile on her face. Logan entered easily, having received an invitation prior to their current visit. Elena and Snow entered as well, the latter grudgingly. However, everything came to a stop when Damon pointedly cleared his throat, a sarcastic expression on his face, "I need to be invited in, you know."

"Good. 'Cause you're not welcome inside my house, Mr. Salvatore," she retorted heatedly, her tone biting, eyes glacial, and attitude completely belligerent. When Damon responded with a menacing snarl, Danica took a bold step forward, though she remained safely ensconced behind the threshold. "Let me make myself _perfectly_ clear. Logan is the _only_ vampire I trust and would willingly do business with. Unlike the other residents in this charming little town, I do not trust you _or_ your brother. And since I have you here, let me bring another matter to light. I am my own person, not somebody at your beck and call you could come to whenever shit hits the fan. _Got it_?!" she sneered, her glare dagger-like and narrowed.

Feeling a sense of déjà-vu, despite knowing the foolishness of his words, Damon menacingly snarled, "Why don't you come outside and repeat that."

"_Damon_-!"

Danica cut Logan's warning off, a harsh laugh erupting from her, "I was born and raised a powerful witch in New Orleans, Damon Salvatore. I _do not_ get provoked by vampires. My family is well-known and can be traced back through many generations, _which means_ I'm used to receiving threats from vampires, and trust me, you're nothing but a baby throwing a temper tantrum compared to the head honcho there. So… no hard feelings. I hope you understand."

Damon responded with a derisive smile, "Not really."

"Pity," she deadpanned.

Before more barbed words could be traded, Logan had Damon donate a small amount of blood for the locater spell. Realizing his missing brother was a priority, Damon promptly obeyed, though his glare of promised murder never once wavered from the saucy mama-witch. However, to the collective surprise of everyone in the vicinity, Snow retreated from the house. "If it's all the same to you, I'm gonna wait out here with Damon," she stated stiffly.

"You don't have to, you're welcome any time, sweetie," Danica's tone softened, perplexed eyes seeking Logan's out. Snow's composure was as stiff as her tone, and she swallowed back her initial response of '_why, so you can spy on me!_', replacing it with, "_Thanks_, but I'd rather stick with someone I _trust_."

The witch recoiled as though she had been struck and disappointment flashed in Logan's eyes. In fact, his entire face and posture turned rigid, a clench in his jaw as he stared at his goddaughter, feeling like he were looking into a stranger's eyes. …Snow hated Danica Claire even more at that. Before that-, that _woman_ darkened her doorstep, nothing Snow did evoked his ire; he'd look at her like she was an angel that fell from Heaven, not some demon-possessed who sided with the enemy and hurt his friend's feelings.

_Who cared about that witch's feelings?! Definitely not Snow!_

Totally awkward, Elena stepped out and hesitantly cleared her throat, "Uh, I'm, I'm gonna stay with Snow. You two finish that spell." She then mouthed to Logan, '_I'll talk to her._' Nodding stiffly, sparing an unrepentant Snow one last glare of disapproval, he disappeared inside with Danica. "Okay, _what_ was _that_, Snow?" Elena whirled around the moment the door clicked shut behind them, eyes wide and tone demanding.

Acting oblivious, Snow shrugged, "What was _what_?"

But Damon let loose a few chuckles, his expression genuinely ecstatic, "You don't like her. Do you?" His question was completely rhetoric; Snow was abysmal at masking her feelings and expressions. The girl was an open book.

"What tipped you off," she retorted sarcastically, prompting Elena and Damon to simultaneously lift their eyebrows. Another chuckle was produced by Damon, "_Ooh_, snarky. You're _full_ of surprises, Snow Silverstone."

Elena bewilderedly shook her head, "No, really. Were you body-swapped or something? Is this actually you or do you, like me, have an evil doppelgänger, 'cause this isn't you, Snow. You don't have a mean bone in your body. Even _Lucille_ and the _step-bitches_ you treat kindly after _everything_ they've done. What's gotten into you?"

Close to exploding, before Snow could unleash every single bottled up emotion she'd been hoarding since the revelation her father had been alive all this time came out in the open, the door reopened and Logan stepped out. "You were right," Logan sighed, his tone grudging. "Stefan's in that farmhouse."

"Well, what _do you know_, seems the bad guys _are_ stupid after all," Damon quipped.

"Then let's go," an impatient Elena pleaded, filing away her friend's weirdness until _after_ they rescued Stefan from the clutches of the tomb vampires. Looping her arm through Snow's, before they could take a step toward Damon's car, Danica's voice permeated the air, bringing them up short. "_Excuse me_, wait just a minute," she huffed, her tone one of disbelief. "Snow, sweetie, I think it'd be best if you stay here. We can get to know each other and Davina would love to make a friend—"

Violet orbs blinked rapidly, "I'm sorry, _what_?"

"Well, it's just…" Danica looked at Logan for support before her green gaze focused back on Snow. "It's very dangerous. You're just a defenseless kid against what? Over twenty vampires…? You can easily get hurt." Seeing an indecipherable emotion flash across her expressive eyes, she kindly added, her tone incredibly gentle, "If you're nervous around me, Elena can stay. In fact, I insist she does."

The tight leash Snow had over her emotions _snapped_.

Her tone uncharacteristically cold, Snow broke into speech, "I'm not _nervous _around you. I simply _don't like you_."

"_Snow_!" Logan barked out. He was still looking at her as though she were a stranger, therefore intensifying her anger. "Apologize now—"

"Since when do you _force_ me to do anything, _Logan_!" The vampire flinched when Snow purposely dropped the affectionate appellation, her eyes flashing with a hidden fire nobody knew meek and demure Snow Silverstone possessed. "I thought the whole point of getting me _away_ from Lucille was so I no longer have to be submissive to _anyone_. Or was that a _lie_." Dismissing her godfather, Snow pinned Danica, who had gone pale, with a glare, "_And you_! You're _not_ my mother, you _don't get to _tell me what to do. I can go wherever the _heck_ I like and you can't stop me. Get _out_ of my town. _Get out_ of my life. _Leave my loved ones alone_! And _stop showing up everywhere_! You think I'm _stupid_, that I don't know what's _really _going on, _why _you're _really _here? You _fudging_ spy! You're spying on me for a father that _abandoned me_."

Two orbs brimming with violet fire flickered between Logan and Danica, as she addressed them both, "You wanna know _why_ I've been avoiding you this week? _Why_ I'd rather spend my time in that _hellhole_ with Lucille and the twins? Because at least when it comes to them, I know who they are. I am not interested in sticking around some _spy_ that _you_ invited into our lives. I don't care about you, I don't care about your daughter, and next time my dear father calls for an update, tell him if he cares so much to come over here himself! I was finally happy!" Tears streamed down her face as she captured Logan's sorrowful gaze, "I felt safe and protected and, _and_ _loved_. Then _she_ came along and you _allowed her into my happy bubble_! You let her intrude on _my life_!" she screamed. "I'd rather die a thousand deaths than have some _minion_ watch after my every move and invade my privacy. So bugger off, you…_you interloper_!"

Turning her back on her gobsmacked audience, Snow stormed over to Damon's car and threw herself inside.

* * *

Proceeding with the series of ensuing events featuring whatever could go wrong, _did_ go wrong, upon reaching their destination, which was some dreary little house that exuded an impression of extreme desolation, situated on the outskirts of Mystic Falls and neighboring the vast woods, Damon flashed ahead to scope the situation and get Stefan, leaving Logan to babysit the two _defenseless_ teenage girls as the vampires had high hopes Pearl or Anna would be there, which would therefore limit the imminent annihilation and death-defying circumstances that were to occur with a bunch of vengeance-seeking vampires in the picture.

The secluded location, while advantageous for a vampire – especially a mob of vampires who had been out of commission for one hundred and forty-six years and were intent on death and destruction but plan on staying under the radar for the unforeseeable future – it was an inexpedient choice of dwelling for a human.

The air thick with tension, a knife couldn't cut through it. Logan's hazel eyes seared the back of Snow's head, wordlessly beseeching her to meet him halfway and open up to him, but the girl adamantly kept her back turned, stubbornly averting any form of contact with him whatsoever. Relief wrapped around both girls like a straitjacket at Damon's rapid return, though the emotion transformed into dread the instant they realized he had come alone.

The owner of the house had been compelled by '_that douche Frederick!_' to _never_ let Damon inside. And if Logan were to try his luck, he'd probably meet the same fate. Meaning they needed the help of a human to get inside and since Snow and Elena were obviously forbidden from getting anywhere within close proximity of the tomb vampires, and a witch – _cough, _Danica, _cough _– would not take any part in the death of an innocent old woman, they had stumbled upon a standstill – because _apparently_, when Damon impatiently listed the reasons why Snow or Elena couldn't help, other than the fact that they were utterly defenseless and could get killed in the blink of an eye, he harshly illuminated that the only way he and Logan could get inside was by killing the owner of the house, something neither girl were comfortable with.

"What about Mr. Saltzman?" Elena suggested.

A heavy silence infiltrated the car, settling heavily over the five individuals. The unsettled eyes of Alaric Saltzman – who agreed to help them rescue Stefan after much convincing and a tiny bit of manipulation on Damon's part when he claimed Pearl might have information on his wife's whereabouts – glanced unceremoniously around, attempting to deduce the source of the tension that had managed to sink its claws in the vampires, Elena and Snow.

As Damon haphazardly parked his precious car adjacent to the mouth of the woods, a safe distance away from where all the action and danger would soon be occurring, Snow bit her lower lip and furtively sent a side-glance at Logan. Earlier at the Claire Residence, the moment the harangue spilled forth from her lips and she concluded her broadside against Logan, a part of her immediately regretted it; not because she didn't mean it, but because she hurt her godfather. She wasn't herself – her disposition completely alien… but _damn_ did she feel a ton lighter after getting everything off her chest.

She didn't want Logan to go in. It was selfish of her; Damon and Stefan needed Logan, but so did _she_. Snow couldn't lose another loved one. Or at least, he couldn't go into battle without her apologizing or assuring him she loved him. Her mouth however, wouldn't open and her tongue felt heavy.

Snow sat in the corner, eyes watchful and ears waxed, observing Elena initiate round two with Damon, arguing fiercely over the benefits of her and Snow accompanying them. Until finally, a distressed Logan stepped in, his voice firm and unwavering and leaving absolutely no room for further argument, "Elena, _that's enough_. You and Snow _will_ stay in the car and wait for us. Having you two along invites weakness. They manage to get a hand on you, threaten either one of you, every single one of us won't be making it out alive, _including _Stefan."

"_Huh_, next time I'll just leave the parenting to you, save me the migraine," Damon quipped once Elena immediately stood down and grumpily slid in the backseat next to Snow, though not before sending an irritated glare at Damon for his comment.

The three men disappeared from their line of vision, the subsequent rain only intensifying the sense of foreboding that shrouded Snow and Elena, the best friends huddling together for comfort. After a brief spell of silence, Elena finally murmured, "What's going on with you, Snow?"

Tears cascading down her ivory complexion, the violet-eyed girl comprehended the course of her friend's thoughts without clarification. "I don't know. I-I think something's wrong with me, Lena," she produced a pathetic sniffle and nestled deeper in the brunette's embrace. "I think everything became too much. With finding out about my Dad and all the negative emotions I'm picking up from everyone. Then _she_ prances into town," she grumbled, eyes flashing with anger like they always did at the very mention or mere sight of Danica Claire. "She's spying on me for my father, Elena. And Logan _adores_ her. Am I supposed to just _let her_ infiltrate my life?" she demanded in disbelief, though her inquiry was mostly rhetoric.

"Honestly? Knowing _that_, I'd have slapped her the second she showed her face and called me _sweetie_," Elena giggled. Come hell or high water, Elena Gilbert was first and foremost on Snow's side. "No but really. I'm proud of you, Snow. You finally did what Caroline, Bonnie and I've been telling you to do from the first day of our friendship." A bright smile settled on Elena's face, eradicating all lines of worry and terror, "You _stood up_ for yourself."

With the culmination of their heart to heart, Elena revealed the two vervain darts she managed to pilfer from Alaric's impressively scary collection and proceeded to hand one over to Snow. "We're not damsels," Elena had said in determination, something the raven-haired girl wholeheartedly agreed on.

Just then, a tree branch fell, slamming into the windshield, prompting both girls to scramble out of the car. Clutching their respective dart to their chest, they held hands in solidarity and, battling through the downpour, ran toward the house, their combined footsteps thundering with resolution.

As they disappeared, a set of intense dark eyes watched. Moments later, Alaric appeared. Opening the car door and seeing the backseat devoid of the two troublesome teenagers that seemed to be a magnet for danger, he grabbed a duffle bag and hissed to himself, "Damn it, Elena, Snow!" before retreating back toward the house. And throughout it all, the stranger remained hidden amidst the shadows the woods cast, a wary eye fixated intently on the quiet, empty scene… waiting.

* * *

The dusty brown rind of the fashioned stake emitted a sickening squelching sound as it tore into the heart of the fourth vampire that dared stand in Logan's way. His smile looked positively wicked and his warm eyes turned fierce, alight with bloodlust as he kicked the desiccated vampire from his path and continued onward, the crimson-stained stake in one hand and a vervain dart in the other. Truthfully, Logan was enjoying himself as it was only moments like these where he could unleash the beast caged within and temporarily abandon composure.

His vision narrowed on a door that had been left slightly ajar. Suspicions high, he moved toward it, only to bump into Damon, who had unwittingly impersonated his movements. "Enjoying the free killing-spree, Cupcake?" he inquired with a devious grin.

Damon let out a dark chuckle, "_Definitely_. No sign of that douche Frederick though. You?"

"Not a peep," he shrugged. "So-" he inclined his head at the door, "-reckon Stefan's behind door number three." He received a determined nod and both vampires quietly made their way down the stairs that seemed to lead to a cellar. In unison, hazels and electric-blues widened on the vampire lurking by a corner, about to attack the backs of two _extremely_ familiar individuals. In a blur, Damon appeared behind him and thrust a stake into his heart, effectively killing him.

Unmitigated anger burned in Logan's chest as he glared at the girls who had _blatantly_ disobeyed him. Damon however, took the words right out of his mouth, "Are you _insane_?"

A rush of confidence and defiance coursed through Snow. Head held high, she jutted her chin out toward the overprotective vampires, especially her disappointed godfather. "We're _not_ damsels," Snow echoed her friend. She then squarely met Logan's furious pair of hazels, "If you think Elena and I were gonna stay behind while you all risk your lives then you're as nutty as a fruitcake!"

Despite the resolution weaved in her unyielding tone, her solemn expression, and her challenging gaze, Damon and Elena were hard-pressed to stifle their laughter at her trademark argot. All her life, for as long as she could remember, Snow Silverstone despised the use of offensive language, finding it much too vulgar for her; for that reason, she'd substitute each and every profanity with a tame version that almost always generated bouts of uncontrollable laughter from her audience.

Fighting back a smile, Logan pinched the bridge of his nose with a thumb and forefinger, inhaling and exhaling deeply through his nostrils. His glare receding, he instead fixated Snow and Elena with the most potent stare of disappointment he had in his arsenal, "We _will_ be talking about this later!" And regardless of the surge of confidence and her recent attitude, Snow bowed her head, but otherwise, stealthily followed Elena into the cellar.

Two gasps mingled in the air at the gruesome sight that lay before them. Stefan and a dark-skinned vampire were tied to a chair, a couple of stakes embedded in them. Snow automatically took a step backward, their pain, anguish and hunger slamming into her full-force.

Recognizing the heavenly voices of his girlfriend and dear friend, Stefan weakly lifted his gaze, their angelic visages immensely welcoming visions to behold in his pain-induced and half-delirious state. "Elena … Snow … you-you shouldn't be _here_," he managed to wheeze out, struggling to spit each and every word out through the toxic fumes of vervain that clogged his orifice. Grimacing, Logan made to move forward. "Unh! No. There's vervain on the ropes," Stefan quickly warned them.

Grudgingly, having come to the realization that Snow and Elena actually _did_ have their uses, Damon and Logan urged them to untie Stefan, but before they could make an attempt to kill his torture-mate, Stefan promptly stopped them, claiming he was in this position because he had made an effort to help him. Once both vampires were freed, Logan and Damon warned the girls to remain extremely vigilant and to not make any stops until Stefan and them were safely ensconced in the car.

"I still have a vervain dart on me," Snow softly reassured them. Before the five had a chance of splitting up, Snow flung herself at Logan, crushing him in a teary embrace, "I love you so much! Promise you'll return to me, to _us_." She then pinned Damon under her imploring gaze, "_Both_ of you." Promises made, Snow stopped short once more, her nose scrunched up in contemplation and entrancing orbs focused on the ceiling, "I feel a… _a lot_ of rage. I can sense more than ten vampires up there, but…some are leaving-" she blinked and cocked her head, "-a bright presence just popped up… I sense concern and-, _oh_! Mr. Saltzman's here," she beamed at a stupefied Logan and a slightly amused Damon. "You have backup."

Damon's lips curled into a smirk, "Huh, would you look at that. Turns out you _are_ useful—_Ouch_!" His face broke into a mini glower as he glared at Logan, who had smacked him on the back of his head – _hard_!

A moue of mild annoyance on her face, Snow huffed and threateningly raised her vervain dart, "Don't make me waste this on you." Though really, she simply looked like an adorable mouse trying to act tough. Turning her back on them, as Damon and Logan joined the throng of murderous vampires and the moody vampire hunter on the upper level, Snow and Elena looped each of Stefan's arms around their respective shoulders, stood close to him, and helped him walk, nearly dragging him outside.

The walk to the car was long and cumbersome, and Snow inwardly bemoaned the imminent pain her back would be facing. Twin sighs of relief escaped the two girls once the powder-blue car entered their field of vision and they picked up speed. Propping Stefan in the backseat, Snow and Elena climbed into the passenger and driver's seat, respectively, their movements rushed and frantic, and eyes darting across their surroundings in alertness. Just about ready to fasten the seatbelt, a sharp gasp from Elena and the terror emanating from her had violet eyes narrowing in on whatever had her friend in a panic.

_The ignition had been removed_…

All of a sudden, the sound of glass shattering rang in the car's interior like a gunshot. Screaming, Snow and Elena twisted around to see shards of glass from the broken window littering the backseat just as a blur knocked into Stefan and tossed him outside.

"_STEFAN_!" they screeched at the top of their lungs, clumsily trying to escape the confines of the car and come to Stefan's help as a dark-haired, dark-eyed vampire they correctly assumed to be '_the douche Frederick_', beat him senseless, his fists pummeling into the nigh-unconscious vampire's face with lightning speed.

Armed with a tree branch, Frederick proceeded to stab into Stefan's torso, and after puncturing him three times, he aimed for the heart. "This is for Beth-Anne!" Frederick growled.

The vervain dart forgotten, Snow's fingernails dug into her temples as she fell to her knees, the rage and grief from Frederick and Stefan's excruciating pain along with every hit he received hitting her tenfold. Next to come was Elena's fear and panic. However, through sheer strength of will, Snow managed to navigate through the vampires' intense emotions and dismiss the influences of everyone in the vicinity; it was Snow's profound fear for her friend's life and all the rage and sorrow, the constant fear of being hunted and the bottled up emotions amassed since the beginning of December that consequently became her undoing and set the next inexplicable event into motion.

Head flung back, Snow's lips parted against her own volition, a scream from deep within forcing its way from her mouth. The eldritch scream that tore through her diverted the attention onto her; her pulse quickened, her eyes widened, and her heart thudded aggressively against her ribcage, it felt as though the strength and speed of her heart's beating could potentially shatter the bone.

"Snow, Stefan—, _oh my God_!" Elena whimpered, clasped hands pressed to her quivering lips. She didn't know what to do, Elena felt at a complete loss with Frederick in the picture.

But before anybody could react, the ambience around them started to crackle, hiss and spit. A presence percolated through the air around them – intimidating, oppressive, ubiquitous. Then the dwindling rain picked up speed and morphed into a deluge, the spate of raindrops relentlessly slamming into the earth. Suddenly, Snow began to radiate, bright white light hugging the contours of her form and from within her, a blast of pure energy was unleashed and catapulted toward Frederick. The vampire only had time to widen his eyes and take a step away from Stefan before it engulfed him entirely and he disintegrated into nothing.

The air around them crackled for a second longer like static electricity before an eerie stillness encompassed the area and the glow returned to its previous darkness. A broken gasp left Snow and her eyes, which had been glowing an unnatural vibrant violet, recovered its normal shade. For a quick second, a blinding light caught her attention – it was a bright white light of unfathomable shape. She blinked and the form almost gained form, the image otherworldly and ephemeral. No longer capable of bearing her own weight, Snow collapsed onto the ground and promptly sank into oblivion.

From the shadows, the watchful dark eyes widened in unadulterated shock and he lowered his crossbow, the sharp end of the wooden stake kissing the winter mire. Rendered speechless, after blinking a couple of times, he had to force his brain to function again, endeavoring to make sense of what just occurred. There must be a _plausible explanation_; he needed to research this unforeseen predicament. _He needed answers_.

Beyond the congregation that surrounded the unconscious girl with the violet aura and a few feet away from the watching stranger, hovering a few feet into the air, the celestial being witnessed the inconceivable occurrence with palpable disbelief and mild wonder. One word left him in a puff of stupefaction, "_Impossible_…"

* * *

"_Hello?" a sweet melodic voice hesitantly called out from within the darkness. Long raven hair styled in light curls, bare but for a headband, had her back to him as she cautiously climbed the stairs, one hesitant step at a time. In the darkness, her rainbow-colored tie-dyed dress stood out. "Hello? Is anyone there?"_

_A loud thump resounded; the girl jerked in alarm and emitted a little shriek, a hand clutched to her chest as though to calm her rapidly beating heart, while the other was pressed to the wall, fingers splayed. Greedily breathing in a lungful of air, she frantically called out, "__**Uncle Logan**__?"_

_Another rattling thump met her inquiry._

"_Damon…? Damon if that's you, it, it __**isn't**__ funny!"_

_However, when she was instead met with complete silence, the girl quickly slid a hand in her boot and pulled out a phone. Her finger hovering over speed-dial, before she could tap the screen, the lights started to flicker ominously and the phone went on the fritz before it promptly darkened, shutting off. Rough exhales leaving her nostrils with barely any inhales echoed eerily in the silent house and, sucking in a sharp intake, the dark-haired girl swiftly crossed the room to her purse and with shaky hands, withdrew a sharply fashioned wooden stake and a silvery dart, its content unknown. "St-Ste-__**Stefan**__?" she stuttered horribly, fear butchering her tone._

_But complete silence ensued._

"_Whoever this is, it isn't funny!" she shakily yelled out. The thumping sound returned, echoing from a room in the far corner. Carefully, she opened the door. Panicky and breathless, her voice hitched, "Uncle Logan?"_

_This time, the response was different. A loud cackle reverberated in the room and an odious voice filled with malice crooned, "I told you I was coming, didn't I? I __**told you**__ there was __**no**__ running from me!"_

_She screamed. The girl whipped around, but he couldn't see her face clearly; the only distinguishable feature visible was her fair skin, almost as white as snow. Despite her fear, the girl bravely placed the wooden stake in front of her in defense. "Stay-stay __**away**__ from me! I h-haven't done __**anything**__ to you! Leave me, why won't you just __**leave **__**me **__**alone**__!" she whimpered fearfully before gasping as the stake erupted into flames. Letting out a yelp, she promptly dropped it and it landed with a clatter on the floor. With both hands, she clutched the dart as though it were a lifeline, her hands clenched around it and bone-white._

_After another explosion of cackling, the odious voice rasped, "A dart of vervain liquid? How… __**amusing**__. You actually think you can defeat me? That that herb can affect me?" The voice cackled louder and suddenly, amidst the surrounding blackness, yellow eyes flashed in a mixture of contempt and glee. Crooning, it said, "__**You**__? Who they call the __**Pure**__ of heart is __**nothing**__ against __**Pure Evil**__!"_

_The lights flickered again and an excruciating scream of agony and anguish resonated in the room before it was engulfed with fire. As the yellow-eyed being's cackles intensified, a set of haunted chocolate brown orbs widened when they looked upward – the girl was pinned to the ceiling, spread-eagled, and a pool of crimson accumulated from her womb, dripping onto the floor._

_But what was seared into his mind, was the girl's large, doe-like violet eyes, framed by thick black lashes. They stared right at him, frozen in its fearful state as the life slowly drained out of them just as the flames shrouded her form and devoured the house._

"Sammy! _SAM_! C'mon Sam, wake up!" the familiar deep, husky voice, one that represented safety, lanced through him and with a sharp gasp, a tall brown-haired man jerked out of bed and into a sitting position. Wide chocolate orbs, brimming with an unhealthy amount of fear and horror, latched onto his older brother. "Dean?" he choked out, his voice a mere whisper.

Vibrant green eyes studying his brother in concern, Dean placed both hands on his shoulders as though to steady him, "Yeah, Sammy, I'm here, I'm here. What the hell was that? It sounded pretty… _intense_. Nightmare?" Dean failed to effectively hide the hopefulness from slipping into his tone; he _really_ didn't want to deal with another one of Sam's _visions_ – he was still recovering from the revelations of the last one. Hope however, dwindled the instant Sam shook his head. "No, not a nightmare. I think it was another vision."

"You _think_?" Dean groaned, causally flopping onto the other bed, "Don't wanna sound insensitive, Sammy, but at this rate, we'll never catch up with Dad."

Indelibly seared into his memory, those pair of violet eyes proceeded to haunt him. Every blink, they swam in front of him and Sam clutched his head, fisting clumps of his shaggy hair. _Why_ were those eyes so entrancing…?

"Dean, you're gonna wanna hear this," he whispered, prompting Dean to square his shoulders and throw him a solemn look. The stiff quality detected in his voice and the quivering breaths he released let Dean know this was no joking matter and some serious shit had hit the fan. And then Sam said it, eviscerating any and all signs of annoyance the elder Winchester held in regards to the unnatural visions that's been plaguing his brother, "It was the thing that killed Mom and Jess."

The disclosure resulted in the intended effect. The air was sucked out of the motel room, and Dean's handsome face contorted in a grimace. His visage radiating utter rage and equal amount of determination, he growled, a clenched fist held aloft, "_Who_?"

Desperate, Sam wildly shook his head, "I _don't know_, Dean." His body was wracked with another shiver as another flash of violet impaled his mind, "I didn't get a location or a name. But the girl, she's still a teenager, Dean and-, _God_!" Again, his head moved from right to left, the movement almost mournful, "She was-, _is_, she's beautiful, Dean. Like out of this world pretty. But what stays with me, are her eyes. They're violet."

"Violet, huh?" Dean scratched the top of his head, then the underside of his jaw, his brows snapping together in confusion. _Violet_ eyes were rare and in his twenty-six years of life, he had yet to meet anyone with that kind of rare coloring. "Okay. Alright, Sammy, _think_. Anything seemed familiar? Anything grabbed your attention? Names, pictures, something we can use to track down this chick?"

Sam frowned, his face strained in concentration as he attempted to relive the haunting vision. "Actually, now that you mention it, yeah. Something seemed off..." he articulated hesitantly. Dean extended both arms out in a '_well?_' gesture, expression impatient. "Her clothes were weird. She was dressed like those hippies from the sixties in a rainbow dress."

"Costume party?" completely nonplussed, Dean shrugged a shoulder. "Probably not Halloween since it already passed, though…" he drifted off in contemplation.

Clearing his throat, Sam continued, "Also, she called out for an Uncle Logan, a Damon and a Stefan. Oh, _and_-" excited, he brought his middle finger and thumb together in a loud snap as another detail launched at him, "-from her purse, she grabbed a wooden stake and some dart, the demon called it _vervain_."

"Okay, what... wooden stake in her _purse_? What is she, Buffy?" Dean scoffed, frowning at the head-scratcher. He then pointed out, "There's no such thing as vampires."

Shrugging, his expression mirroring Dean's, Sam added, "It gets more confusing. He said that, 'he told her he was coming, and did she think she could run from him.' He also said that 'the pure of heart cannot defeat pure evil'."

"Well, what the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?" Dean groused in annoyance. Without warning, he punched the wall, "We can't let that demon kill anyone else, Sam!"

Getting worked up, Sam's yelling was interspersed with harsh breathing, "You think I don't _know_ that! _I'm_ the one who saw her _die_. Just like Jess, and I _couldn't_ save her, okay?" Calming down after a moment's silence, he snapped, "We should have _never_ let Dad take off. It was a mistake."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Dean glumly inclined his head, "Let's just try and find Dad, alright. He'll know what to do… There must be a pattern." He looked utterly lost as he dragged a hand down his face.

Nodding, Sam got to his feet and started packing his duffel bag. But no matter what, every time he closed his eyes, a dead pair of violets stared right back.

* * *

Returning from the necromantic-tainted town, he snuck back into Heaven unseen and flounced toward its center, his movements unceasing until he stood before his brother whose face remained impassive as though he hadn't taken notice of the intrusion and continued to trim the hedges, wholly unperturbed.

The moment the _girl_ with the violet aura was rendered unconscious, he vigilantly watched over her for many a day as she endured in a quiescent state, the mortal healers having declared the anomaly comatose. However, upon the passing of another mortal week, he decided he had overstayed his welcome. The route his suspicions were traveling on was extremely dangerous and not conducive to his welfare; if Michael or Zachariah or even the intelligence division discovered his sojourn on Earth and the forbidden knowledge he had fortuitously acquired, it would all be extracted and he would become brainwashed into a mindless puppet, his memories modified.

"Ah, brother. You have come home at last!" Joshua donned a friendly grin on his lips and his bright eyes crinkled in a smile. The younger angel surrendered to the tic he had appropriated from the mortals during one of his many excursions to Earth with Anna, which eventually became a habit Uriel especially abhorred – he rolled his ethereal eyes at the Gardener's artificial ignorance, knowing Joshua sensed him the moment he stepped foot in his playground. "Why did you have me go there?" he demanded, mostly curious.

The Gardener coruscated with genuine anticipation, "Why, _what_ did you see?"

"I dare not speak of it," he retorted and his gaze narrowed at the knowingness that lanced past Joshua's eyes. "Merely _thinking_ of it could impel Naomi to descend upon me. It should _not_ be possible, Joshua."

No, he wasn't scared – _not exactly_, _not at all_. He was a formidable warrior, a member of Heaven's most infamous garrison, and an angel who had been present when the world was first created and thus, was several millennia older than biblical time. He had witnessed countless horrors and untold miracles, and throughout it all, he had managed to uncover the plethora of secrets Heaven harbored through stealth and ingenuity… as well as a good measure of curiosity. _However_, Heaven had a hierarchy and the upper echelons could easily sentence him to the Dungeon or the Chair – a favorite indoctrination method. Despite the impetuous quality he possessed, he happened to be one of the rare few to escape the '_honor'_ of warming Naomi's Chair or see the inside of the intelligence division, and it was all due to his impregnable, indomitable sense of self-preservation.

An emotion akin to pity materialized on Joshua's face. He maintained eye contact for a while longer before he dropped into a kneeling position, both knees gently pressed to the lush grass so that he could inspect the blossoming patch of floribundas. "And _yet_, before your very eyes, you have witnessed the impossible," he stated matter-of-factly, his countenance annoyingly nonchalant despite the circumstances.

"Enough riddles, Joshua! You have yet to give me an answer," he hissed, losing his composure.

Abandoning his efforts, a sigh emanated from Joshua as he drew himself to his full height and the younger angel couldn't help but feel cowed, the disapproval misting his brother's all-knowing eyes making him feel like a chastised fledging. "You were _chosen_, brother. _He_ chose you, and in time, as the days progress, you shall understand why. Only _you_ have the ability to know _when_ that time comes," he revealed cryptically.

Emitting a huff that came out an amalgamation of exasperation and irritation, he swiped a hand in the air and turned to leave. Joshua continued to stand in his spot, eyes fixated on the younger angel's retreating back, waiting. Just as expected, he halted in his tracks and spoke from over his shoulder, "An abomination has taken residence in that town." In fact, the stench of sulfur was so potent, he marveled at how it remained undetected for so long.

"_Oh_? And what do you make of it?"

He stood stock-still for a while before the silence was broken with his scoff, "It's not _my_ concern." And without further ado, just as he flounced into the Garden, he flounced out without a single backward glance.

Closing his eyes, Joshua continued to stand on the same spot, hands clasped behind his back and unmoving. Inundated with another integrant of revelation, deep, omniscient eyes snapped open and he smiled serenely, "For now, _Balthazar_."

* * *

The monotonous beeping of the ECG stabbed her eardrums, its loud intensity forcing her into consciousness with a sharp gasp and her eyes flew open, pools of bright violets pinning the ceiling with wide-eyed confusion and slight terror.

The blood rushing to her head dimmed the familiar voices that repeatedly called her name. Inhaling and exhaling frenetically, she attempted to move, but other than the entanglement of wires wrapped around her form, she felt weak and stiff, her joints numb and heavy with prolonged disuse. Suddenly, a swarm of scrub-clad individuals infiltrated her field of vision, blocking the dull and dreary view of the ceiling, its white paint marred with spider web cracks. Belatedly, she could hear them inquiring about her condition as a doctor lifted her eyelids and shone a light into her eyes, almost blinding her in the process.

Her throat scratchy and mouth as dry as the Sahara, she found the strength to cut into the profusion of medical lingo that permeated the room she was confined in and croak out, "_Water_."

Soon after, her doctor, baffled by her clean bill of health, left the room, murmuring nonsensically to himself as he endeavored to locate a perfectly sane medical reason behind the inconsistency Snow generated. Another medical mystery enveloped the seventeen-year-old and it didn't sit right with Dr. Michaels.

Blinking, the room swam before her. Groaning aloud, she blinked again and this time, her violet orbs brightened significantly, her pale complexion luciferous with joy at the sight of Logan. His hand instantly reached out for her, clasping it in a vice grip and Snow frowned, unable to help but take note of how utterly dog-tired her godfather looked. "What happened?" she whispered, voice still scratchy, as she carefully arranged herself in a sitting position, despite Logan's feeble effort to prevent her from making sudden movements. "I feel perfectly fine. _Promise_," she reassured him with her trademark megawatt smile.

"If not for my new and improved health, you'd have scared me into an early grave, Snow Silverstone," Logan wearily chastised her, the relieved smile on his face belying his tone. He couldn't keep his hands off her, alternating between stroking her hair, cupping her face and gripping her hand. "You've been in a coma, Jellybean," he finally disclosed through compressed lips and he roughly dragged a hand down his face, covertly brushing away a traitorous tear that ran down the length of his face. "It's been two weeks."

She inhaled a sharp intake of breath and suddenly, like a freight train, her memory returned, slamming into her: _The tomb vampires … Stefan's abduction … Frederick catching up to them … Stefan nearly dying … the light … and—_

"I-I, _oh my God_!" Snow broke into tears as realization dawned on her. "I _killed him_, didn't I? I, I can't believe I _killed_ somebody, I-I-I didn't _mean to_…" her words were interspersed with harsh sobs, making her almost incoherent. Logan shook his head, wonder and awe displayed on his face. The bed dipped as he perched on its edge and drew her into a tight embrace, "Shhhh, _shhhhhhhh_. _Never_ feel guilty for protecting yourself and your friends. Who knows what would've happened if you didn't, honey. Frederick was a bad vampire, you understand me? He's incapable of repentance, you hear me? Because of _you_ Stefan and Elena are safe and well."

As though summoned, Elena peered inside, her presence and her voice the buoy that kept Snow afloat. Rushing to her other side, the brunette almost suffocated her with her embrace, tears shamelessly falling down her face like rivulets. "I still don't understand how you did it. The power that came out of you… it was as frightening as it was beautiful."

Head shaking rapidly, the raven-haired girl almost fell victim to a conniption fit as, for the second time in the span of two months, after waking up in a hospital, she was promptly introduced to a whole new world. She wanted to be human! _Human and normal, human and normal, human and normal, human and normal…_ repeated like a hysteric mantra in her head. She began to experience a shortness of breath and the room started spinning around her like vertigo – an indication of an anxiety attack.

Luckily, Elena was right next to her and like many times before, she brought her back, clutching her hand tightly and anchoring her to the present. "…one, two, three… That's it. You've got it, Snow. C'mon, one more time. One, two, three… Hold it in _annddd_ let it out. Inhale, _exhale_…"

"What kind of freak of nature am I?" she shrieked. Considerably calmer, Snow _nevertheless_ was _still_ overwrought. "How can this happen_?_ I thought, I thought I was an _empath_. Empaths can't do anything but sense emotions, right?" Long strands of raven hair lassoed left and right as Snow hastily pivoted to face Logan and Elena and back again, "_Right_?!"

In total synchronization, Logan and Elena sternly reprimanded her, "You're _not_ a freak."

"Danica and I are looking into this. Don't worry about it, honey. We'll figure it out," Logan added, his tone soothing. Snow's reaction was intense; she stiffened and averted eye contact and in a horrible attempt to sound casual and unconcerned, said, "Danica? She was here?" An awkward silence then ensued once Elena replied with an affirmative as it resulted in Snow inadvertently giving Logan the cold shoulder, her violet orbs stubbornly fixated on the television screen hovering overhead.

The two then instigated an odd staring contest, Elena's brows rising and falling meaningfully while Logan merely stared, expression unreadable. Finally, he inclined his head in acquiescence and Elena perkily jumped to her feet and announced she was going to make some phone calls to their friends regarding Snow's condition while they "_talked it out_". The moment the door clicked shut behind the brunette, Logan released a long-drawn-out breath, "You gonna tell me what's going on with you, Snow? Ever since Danica moved in, you've been… _belligerent_. That's not like you."

The stubborn silence persisted, but Logan patiently waited her out, his eyes focused on her while she collected her thoughts.

"You _don't know_ how it feels, Uncle Logan," she suddenly prefaced in a whisper, blinking back tears to no avail as a line stained her face and coursed down her chin. "Do you know how it feels to be an orphan? To, to _lose_ your mother at such a young age and have your father _constantly_ away on business. To overhear nearly every single adult in your life call your father an _absentee_ _parent_? To have to share your _home_, the house of your ancestors, the house your mother grew up in, lived in, and died in, with a woman who hates you? To be bullied by your step-sisters? Or how about, how it feels to be a _slave_ in your house!?" Overcome with sadness and mild rage at the unfairness of _everything_ Snow had been forced to endure, she yanked the antiseptic-smelling blanket off her and turned to properly face the vampire, "Do you _know_ how it _feels_ to be told your father is _dead_? To attend his funeral; to cry at the loss; to go through depression! To this day I haven't gotten over his-" she forcefully performed quotation marks with both hands, "-_death_!" Her next words were accompanied by harsh sobs, "_Do you know how it feels_ to religiously visit your father's grave, almost every two days like clockwork, and spill your guts out, thinking he's watching over you, _listening _to you, only to find out nearly a decade later that you've been talking to an empty grave!? And that my father, the person I wished _more than anything_ would miraculously appear in my life and _rescue me_ from Lucille and her tyranny… that he's been alive _this whole time_. That he _abandoned me_. That he _left me to suffer_."

Head shaking, Snow promptly held a hand out, effectively stopping Logan from speaking. "Enter Danica. I don't _hate _her, Uncle Logan. You know I'm incapable of hating anyone that's not Lucille and the twins," she sadly disclosed, violets gleaming with a veneer of tears. "Danica Claire is a reminder of _everything_ I've been trying to move on from. I built a cocoon for myself, I shoved back the horrible fact my father abandoned me, I attempted to come to terms with it and _move on_. I had you, and my friends and my honorary aunts and uncle… Then that _interloper_ arrives, _blatantly spying on me for HIM_, and you, you act like-, like I'm supposed to be _okay_ with it?" she breathed out in palpable disbelief, eyes wide and filled with hurt. "She's your friend, I get it. And I'm sorry, but… I'm not comfortable with her around me, knowing she's gonna report everything back to my Dad." A sudden epiphany struck her, "She told him, right? About what happened to me…" she trailed off.

Wholly exhausted, Logan reclined in the uncomfortable hospital chair and after rubbing his face with his cupped hands, he met her knowing gaze, "I suppose she did." He then lifted a shoulder in a shrug, "He didn't show his face though. I didn't leave your bedside, honey. Elena, Bonnie and Caroline rotated shifts around you. The Lockwoods and Salvatores visited every day. Trust me, if somebody approached you, we'd have known. You were constantly watched by us." The 'in case the hitman made an appearance and took advantage of your vulnerability' was left unsaid.

"You know, each and every witch have one single trait in common." The non sequitur startled Snow. The pools of hazels staring back at her flooded with seriousness, "They're prideful creatures, Snow. For a powerful coven to ally themselves with your father-" he cut himself off with a grave inclination of his head. "Trust me, Snow. They're not doing it for free or out of the goodness of their hearts. I can tell you they aren't pleased with having to look after you." Cradling her hands between his, Logan softly uttered, "What I'm trying to say is, take it easy on Danica. I'm not saying you have to like her or get along with her. Just… try and understand from her perspective. She was given an order and she could not refuse. She had to uproot her entire life and that of her daughter's from their _home_. Think of it, yeah?" He then placed a chaste kiss on her forehead and softly ruffled her hair.

Sucking in her lower lip, Snow let out a loud exhale, confused and torn. "I think… I think it was all the emotion overload that made be _belligerent_, as you say," she beamed brightly. "I make no promises about your witch friend. But… for now, I'll at least try and be civil." …And Logan's vibrant smile was _definitely _worth it. Like an avalanche, another epiphany hit her, "Wait… did you say I've been unconscious for _two weeks_? Does that mean I missed the Founders Day Kick-off party?"

Elena's laughter reverberated from the doorway, announcing her return. "Funny you should ask. It's tonight actually. _Which is why_-" she drawled out, mirth sparkling in her eyes and humor lacing her tone, "-Carol Lockwood is in Dr. Michaels' office, demanding he discharge you since he couldn't find anything wrong in your charts."

Emitting a sound of annoyance, Logan threw his head back and pressed his forearm against his face. Groaning, he got to his feet, eyes rolling heavily in their sockets, "If you'll excuse me, ladies. I'm gonna try and minimize the casualties out there. Be back soon." To Snow's surmounting confusion, as he passed Elena, it was _his_ turn to shoot her a meaningful look, eliciting a grimace from her.

"What _else_ happened while I was unconscious?" she demanded glumly, throwing her arms into the air.

Tentatively, Elena deposited herself in Logan's vacated chair, meeting the pair of curious violets with her sad swirls of chocolates. Swallowing the lump from her throat, Elena hesitantly revealed, "Snow, there's something else… while we were getting Stefan, Caroline had car troubles because of the weather and got stranded on her way to her Dad's." Sensing her initial concern morphing into a hysteric freak out, Elena hurriedly reassured her, "Caroline's safe. She's good. Nothing happened to her. But, Snow-" preparing to unveil the horrible news, she sucked in a deep breath, "-the storm unearthed Vicki's body. …And Caroline found her."

The reminder of Vicki and her horrifying death was like a slap to her face. As though there were miles between them instead of inches, Elena's voice sounded foggy, her words nearly inaudible as she informed her about the funeral that took place a week ago and insisted while they had wanted to wait for Snow so that she could be in attendance and say her final goodbyes to Vicki, after remaining comatose for a week, it was unfair to Matt and Kelly to wait any longer.

Like waves, grief engulfed and overwhelmed her. Blinded by the tears in her eyes, choked up and unable to breathe, Snow allowed Elena to tackle her in a strangling embrace, holding her close and whispering soothing words to her. "Can _anything else_ go wrong?" she sniffed, nestling her head in the crook between the brunette's neck and shoulder.

Resting the side of her face on the top of Snow's head, Elena groaned, "Don't jinx it, _please_."

* * *

_**CAST:**_

**Jessica Lowndes _as_ Danica Claire**

**Danielle Campbell _as_ Davina Claire**

* * *

"_**Empath? So in other words, you're a sexy lie detector?**_**" – **_**Damon Salvatore**_

"_**Pure? That's a new one… Is that the Spirits' fancy way of saying empath? Note that my eyes are begging you to say yes.**_**" **_**– **__**Logan Fell**_

"_**I'm sorry but I think it's cool, Snow. I mean, maybe the emotion overload is temporary, you know? And as time goes by, you can control it… nifty gift if you ask me. I'd rather have that than being some humongous bitch's twin.**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert**_

"_**Hey, Bonnie. It's Elena-, and Snow!-, we're just checking in, seeing how you're doing. We miss you-, like a lot, a lot!-, don't let your aunt drive you too crazy-, and remember, we're only a phone call away, Bons. Come home soon-, we love you!**_**" **_**– **__**Snow Silverstone & Elena Gilbert**_

"_**Alaric's wife might have been your mother?**_**" **_**– **__**Stefan Salvatore**_

"_**Damon's too busy depleting my alcohol supply to drain sorority girls. You're welcome, Stef.**_**" **_**– **__**Logan Fell**_

"_**And guess what? When I was looking up Isobel, I accidentally stumbled on Monica Grace. The boyfriend-stealing, size-zero skank with red hair Logan cheated on me with.**_**" **_**– **__**Jenna Sommers**_

"_**It doesn't make any sense man. Why would I even have these premonitions if there wasn't a chance I could stop them from happening?**_**" **_**– **__**Sam Winchester**_

"_**I am totally going to ruin this moment, but I-I have to tell you. Elena recently found out she was adopted, and she's been looking for her birth mother…whose name was Isobel.**_**" **_**– **__**Jenna Sommers**_

"_**Elena, something's not right. Trudie's nervous and terrified. She's hiding something. I feel her deception. She doesn't want us here…**_**" **_**– **__**Snow Silverstone**_

"_**Damon, I already told you, I'm not getting involved in anything Alaric Saltzman related, got it? Anyways, just because we occasionally share booze and haven't killed each other, doesn't make us partners in crime. I tolerate you for Snow. You tolerate me for Snow. It's a good arrangement, let's stick to it.**_**" **_**– **__**Logan Fell**_

_**Damon Salvatore:**_** "**_**Do you know that I am one of Mystic Falls' most eligible bachelors?**_**" **_**Snow Silverstone:**_** "**_**So is Uncle Logan.**_**" **_**Elena Gilbert:**_** "**_**Sorry to burst you bubble, Damon. You're not the only eligible vampire in town.**_**"**

"_**Wow, you must really get your kicks, bullying a teenage girl. Says a lot about what kind of mother you are. So, I'm new in town, dunno if this is regular behavior, but as an actual mother, I'm gonna tell you nicely to back the hell off. You don't listen, I've no problem getting physical, bitch.**_**" **_**– **__**Danica Claire (to Kelly Donovan)**_

"_**I slept with her because I liked her. I turned her because she begged me to.**_**" **_**– **__**Damon Salvatore**_

"_**This ring protected me.**_**" **_**– **__**Alaric Saltzman**_

"_**What your Dad said, about what happened to your Mom. It's real. It happened to my Mom too, exactly the same. My nursery, my crib, my Dad saw her on the ceiling.**_**" **_**– **__**Sam Winchester**_

_**Sam Winchester:**_** "**_**Well, I'll tell you one thing. We're lucky we had Dad.**_**" **_**Dean Winchester:**_** "**_**Well I never thought I'd hear you say that.**_**" **_**Sam Winchester:**_** "**_**Well, it coulda gone a whole other way after Mom. A little more tequila and a little less demon hunting and we woulda had Max's childhood. All things considered, we turned out ok. Thanks to him.**_**"**

"_**Richard, you keep staring, you're going to burn a hole through him. I don't see the problem with Logan befriending the Salvatore boys. They're good people and Damon's been very helpful.**_**" **_**– **__**Carol Lockwood**_

"_**It's not the fact that he's talking with them that's the problem, Carol. It's the need for secrecy. The hushed meetings. The serious looks being exchanged. I'm telling you, something's off.**_**" – **_**Richard Lockwood**_

"_**You too? Wow. I guess I know how you felt when I went through my anti-vampire phase. Bonnie hasn't been returning my calls.**_**" **_**– **__**Snow Silverstone**_

"_**What does it say about me if I really like Ric, I'm bummed its awkward between us, but I'm insanely jealous of that woman who recently moved in because she's getting all cozy with Logan.**_**" **_**– **__**Jenna Sommers**_

"_**She doesn't really like me, does she?**_**" **_**– **__**Danica Claire**_

"_**You're letting Elena turn you into a crazy person. Look it's my fault. I made it pretty clear early on that Elena still means something to me. But all that talk, that was just two old friends and some memories. Tonight wasn't about me and Elena. I was there because I wanted to be with you. And I don't know what this means or what we are but I do know that you are the only person I want to be in this car with right now. And I don't even know if that makes sense because I'm not really that good at expressing myself.**_**" **_**– **__**Matt Donovan**_

"_**Jenna, Danica Claire and Logan Fell aren't together. But why do you care so much? I thought you liked Mr. Saltzman…?**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert**_

"_**I knew this girl. Vicki. She was attacked by an animal, a bite to the neck. She started acting crazy, weird, and it seemed like drugs, but then you showed me those articles. And then I saw your face and how it changed the night in the cemetery when I kissed you.**_**" **_**– **__**Jeremy Gilbert**_

"_**I spy with my little eye, a literal spy.**_**" **_**– **__**Snow Silverstone**_

"_**Demons I get. People are crazy.**_**" **_**– **__**Dean Winchester**_

_**Damon Salvatore:**_** "**_**I say we go to Pearl's, bust down the door, and annihilate the idiot that attacked us last night.**_**" **_**Stefan Salvatore:**_** "**_**Yeah. And then what? We turn to the rest of that house of vampires and say, 'Oops. Sorry'?**_**"**

"_**It's my dad's boyfriend's daughter's birthday. We have a non-traditional traditional ritual.**_**" **_**– **__**Caroline Forbes**_

"_**Look, Logan, I know you said Damon Salvatore's not a friend, but you obviously have a frenemy thing going on. Snow however, is his friend. If Snow doesn't like me because of how I just treated him, I'm not going to say sorry because my daughter's safety comes first. Davina always comes first.**_**" **_**– **__**Danica Claire**_

"_**One hundred and forty-five years left starving in a tomb, thanks to Katherine's infatuation with you and your brother. First few weeks, every single nerve in your body screams with fire. The kind of pain that can drive a person mad. Well… I thought your brother might want to get a taste of that before I killed him.**_**" **_**– **__**Frederick**_

"_**They found Vicki Donovan. Storm unearthed the grave off county road. They just brought her to the morgue. And what's more, Logan just called… Snow's been admitted to the hospital. Again.**_**" **_**– **__**Richard Lockwood**_

"_**I'm sorry, what did you just say? … She did what!? … Okay, I understand. You go do what you have to do. A couple days' tops I'll be there, I'm just finishing something in Michigan. … Yeah, I'm sure. … It's time I return to Mystic Falls, do my part. Jenna's been mucking everything up from what I hear. … I'll keep you updated.**_**" – **_**John Gilbert**_

"_**Something happened, some, some blinding light. It came out of Snow. It just, it manifested from her and hit him. Frederick just… he disintegrated. How could Snow do that? Empaths don't have that sort of power.**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert**_

"_**It's funny, I first saw Snow, she gave off the impression she couldn't hurt a fly. Months later, she combusts some dick vampire without a single thought. Scary stuff right there. And I'd just like to make it clear how glad I befriended her.**_**" **_**– **__**Damon Salvatore**_

"_**What do you mean she's perfectly healthy but isn't waking up? Did you learn that kind of unhelpful crap in medical school!?**_**" **_**– **__**Richard Lockwood**_

"_**I met Meg weeks ago, literally on the side of the road. And now, I run into her in some random Chicago bar? I mean, the same bar where a waitress was slaughtered by something supernatural? You don't think that's a little weird?**_**" – **_**Sam Winchester**_

_**Caroline Forbes:**_** "**_**Maybe it's like Sleeping Beauty's curse. True love's kiss will wake her up.**_**" **_**Elena Gilbert:**_** "**_**Okay, first of all, that stuff doesn't exist. You sound like Snow, Care. Second, if it does, which it doesn't, Snow doesn't have a romantic life outside her books. She never had a boyfriend or a first kiss. Hence, no true love.**_**" **_**Caroline Forbes:**_** "**_**Oh my God, Elena. You did not just say 'hence', what are you sixty?**_**"**

"_**He is pretty good, I'll give you that. But you see, he has one weakness. You. He lets his guard down around his boys, lets his emotions cloud his judgment. I happen to know he is in town. And he'll come and try to save you.**_**" **_**– **__**Meg**_

"_**This demon is a scary son of a bitch. I don't want you caught in a crossfire. I don't want you hurt. … Listen, Sammy, last time we were together, we had one hell of a fight. It's good to see you again. It's been a long time.**_**" **_**– **__**John Winchester**_

"_**We almost got Dad killed in there. Don't you understand? They're not gonna stop. They're gonna try again. They're gonna use us to get to him. I mean, Meg was right. Dad's vulnerable when he's with us. He's- he's stronger without us around.**_**" **_**– **__**Dean Winchester**_

"_**I'm sorry, Logan. I didn't detect any magical interference. The best I can say, is Snow's in stasis. Whatever power she unleashed it must have wore her out, like it depleted her energy and until it's restored, she won't be waking up.**_**" **_**– **__**Danica Claire**_

"_**Sammy, this fight is just starting. And we are all gonna have a part to play. For now, you've got to trust me, son. Okay, you've gotta let me go. Be careful, boys.**_**" **_**– **__**John Winchester**_

"_**I said I'll be here before noon. Now tell me, what's this I hear about Snow Silverstone in a coma?**_**" **_**– **__**John Gilbert**_

"_**Oh thank God! Snow, sweetheart. I am so thrilled you're awake! And just in time for the ball tonight!**_**" **_**– **__**Carol Lockwood**_

"_**Why are you avoiding your uncle, Lena? I mean, yeah, he's kind of odd, but… he really loves you. It's weird, before no one would've been able to say that with a straight face but, empath in the room is 100% certain he loves you. A lot. So, go easy on him.**_**" **_**– **__**Snow Silverstone**_

"_**Ah, Logan. My, my, how the mighty have fallen. Don't worry, for now, your secret's safe with me.**_**" **_**– **__**John Gilbert**_

"_**Is Snow seriously waxing poetry about the dick I just killed?**_**" **_**– **__**Damon Salvatore**_

"_**No. I already told you this, Damon. We're not partners in crime. I may not get along with John 6 times out of 10, but that doesn't mean I'm alright with you trying to kill him. So you and your history buff pal keep me out of your shenanigans, I'm not gonna have a vengeful Gilbert after me, thanks. I've got Snow to think of and a life to live.**_**" **_**– **__**Logan Fell**_

"_**Elena, my head is pounding. I feel like my skin is on fire. I have this hunger inside of me that I've never felt before in my entire life and all I keep thinking about is how I promised that I would never keep anything from you, and so I'm telling you this.**_**" **_**– **__**Stefan Salvatore**_

_**Dean Winchester:**_** "**_**Every time I type in 'girl with purple eyes', I get Elizabeth Taylor.**_**" **_**Sam Winchester:**_** "**_**Try violet.**_**"**

"_**Well, well, well… what do we have here. Mystic Falls, huh? I'm just glad there aren't any cookie cutter lawns or I'd have puked all over them. The name gives it a good mystery. I'd say nice meatsuit, but I'm more interested in what you're doing here!**_**" **_**– **__**Azazel**_

* * *

**A/N:**** Whew! This was such a long and exhausting chapter to write! The chapter (excluding the quotes) took 34 pages! I know, I know, it's a lot. But in my defense, I squeezed in FOUR episodes of TVD. So yeah. Any of my lovely readers who followed this story when it was 'A Cinderella Story', you can clearly see I completely changed the entire chapter; before it was a boring summary, but now I added details and characters and more interactions. So, bear with me for some important notes I need to address:**

**(1) Danica and Davina Claire! OMG yes, I introduced Davina early. Firstly, I changed her age. If my calculations are correct, in canon she's probably 14 or 15. I can't recall if she was 15 or 16 in the Harvest. Here, she JUST turned 11 – awh, cute, I know. To be perfectly honest, throughout the entirety of TO, I was so torn on whether or not I liked or hated Davina – anyone that opposes my favorite character who is obviously Klaus! instantly gets on my shit-list (which is why I had a love-hate relationship with the MF Gang in Seasons 3 and 4 of TVD). But then Kol, my 2****nd**** favorite character fell in love with her… so, I decided to introduce her early and change things around. Not giving any spoilers, but my story is gonna deviate a lot from canon. Also, about her mother, this isn't a Danica bashing story, but Snow's reaction to her legitimately makes sense. I will say this, excluding Logan, Danica's gonna have a hard time fitting in with the Mystic Falls Gang.**

**(2) Notice how I'm introducing characters from New Orleans early? Like Will Kinney, Sophie Deveraux, Davina Claire, Marcel Gerard, etc… Honestly, I find TO fascinating and I've had ideas on how to play around with the characters instead of waiting for TO to begin. Which BTW, dates are gonna be changing A LOT! So don't expect canon dates for SPN and TO Universe – but more of that'll be explained later.**

**(3) About SPN: This is fanfiction, and the best thing about it, is compared to canon facts & events, we can totally manipulate, deviate and create. I kind of changed Joshua's story-plot. I mean, if God talks to him, and if that fact had Zachariah running scared from him, then I'm pretty sure he'd have valuable information and have intricate power over Heaven, like allowing Balthazar to leave Heaven without tipping anyone off… right? Right. Also SURPRISE: BALTHAZAR! WHAT? He's my favorite angel… well, one of. So I'm thrilled at his early appearance. Hope you are too! As you can see I'm already shaking things up ;)**

**(4) And lastly, some of you are probably surprised by Snow's bitterness and her complete OOCness? This chapter marked Snow's character development. But as you can see, she still cried over killing Frederick. She's purely good and innocent and kind. But the amount of emotions drilling into her and finding out the truth about her father and realizing Danica is spying on her – it became too much and Snow snapped. I'm not saying she's gonna always be rude and outspoken, just that her character's developing and she won't be so vanilla all the damn time. What was that power? Why did she fall into a 2-week coma? What's with Balthazar's reaction? It'll be revealed in due time. Patience is the key, my lovelies.**

**(5) Who was that mysterious stranger? What's with Sam's visions? Aah, we finally see Dean and Sam!**

**(6) SPN Universe: Nightmare, The Benders, Shadow, Hell House.**

**R&R.**


	16. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer:**** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters, ideas and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

_**CHAPTER 15:**_

**LUTHER'S LAIR**

* * *

**Captive (**_**noun**_**): a person who has been taken prisoner; imprisoned or confined**

"_**There's nothing worse than waiting and not knowing what'll happen to you. Your own imagination can be crueler than any captor.**_**"**

"_**Vampires. Honestly, they're like children sometimes.**_**"**

"_**There is only one princess in the Disney tales, one girl who gets to be exalted. Princesses may confide in a sympathetic mouse or teacup, but they do not have girlfriends.**_**"**

"_**Every fear of being loved for who you are no matter what, when you're stumbling and you're haunted by regret, and the darkness closes in, just listen… You're beautifully broken.**_**"**

* * *

A couple was cruising down the road, their playful teasing interspersed with flirtatious banter and witticisms. All in all, it looked like it was going to be a great February morning; the road was clear, the weather calm, and their relationship strong. Unfortunately, as the car passed mile marker 41, the exuberant ambience reached a brutal cessation. Disconnecting her dark eyes from her boyfriend's merry face, they promptly widened upon landing on the man lying in the middle of the road and Jenny emitted a high-pitched scream. Subsequently, the brakes were instantly slammed on and the car rolled to an abrupt stop.

Consequently, the couple's sense of morality ended up being their downfall. As Jenny frantically dialed 911, her boyfriend rushed out of the car to check on the injured man's state, his first priority checking if he had a pulse. However, no sooner had he flipped him over, did the stranger's eyes and mouth simultaneously snap open, startling him. A set of lethal fangs emerging from the stranger's gums and extending beyond his human teeth was the last image the poor man saw.

Shortly after, the couple's car stood abandoned in the exact spot it had stopped by mile marker 41, the couple themselves having disappeared alongside the stranger. The only indication of their disappearance was the phone which lay haphazardly on the floor by the passenger seat, the line still connected to the emergency service.

However, the couple hadn't been the only misfortunate ones to be taken hostage.

A short distance away from the mile marker, an unconscious girl lay on the side of the road like a shining beacon, looking like she had been plucked right out of a princess fairytale and tossed unceremoniously into the middle of nowhere. Abandoned and forgotten.

Like an ivory carving, her face was very white, as though tailored from snow or the moonlight. Her bone structure was flawless and her hair cascaded around her delicate skin in soft ringlets, the color darker than the sky at midnight, circling her head like a dark halo. The contrast of hair so black against skin so white was shocking and made her all the more ethereal. Her elfin features spoke of otherworldly beauty that rendered the predators congregated around her completely speechless. She looked like a porcelain doll, mishandled and she'd shatter.

A pretty brunette woman strutted forward, her poise confident. She radiated an air of leadership as, the moment she appeared her fellow predators stepped aside, allowing her the chance to get a closer look at what had captured their undivided attention. Sharp gray eyes raked the unconscious beauty's form, identifying the expensive designer dress that flattered her hourglass physique and lovingly clung to her every curve. "That's a Stella McCartney dress," she murmured to herself while her orbs proceeded to analyze her, and when they landed on her heels, they widened in awe and slight envy. "_Fuck me sideways_! Those heels are Louboutins!"

One of the men scoffed loudly, not particularly caring about his portrayal of blatant disrespect to his leader's mate. "I fail to see the importance of what brand the mortal wears, Kate," he sneered. Kate's gray orbs flashed angrily at Marv's public show of insolence, but nevertheless deemed him with a clipped retort, "_Meaning_, this girl is no hitchhiker. She obviously comes from a wealthy family, who _will_ undoubtedly come looking for her!"

Having already endangered her nest and mate by viciously pursuing and ultimately killing the _pest_, Daniel Elkins, Kate decided the best course of action was to leave the abandoned girl, untouched. However, just as she turned and gestured for the others to return to their nest, another man spoke up in bemusement, "The girl… she has no scent!"

Freezing in her tracks, Kate whirled around, eyes narrowed, and crouched over the little beauty, her nose a hairsbreadth away from her neck. Rearing back at the oddity, Kate's eyes grew wide, her face tight with incomprehension. She had been willing to leave the girl be but…this changed everything. Luther would definitely be interested in her origins – the girl was obviously not normal and her mate had an appetency for hoarding precious valuables.

Standing upright, Kate sneered at the pond scum that dared disrespect her, "Marv! Grab her. _Quickly_. I want us gone before law enforcement and hunters swarm the area."

The congregation swiftly disappeared, Marv's utter incompetence prompting him to inadvertently leave behind a single clue: a Louboutin heel.

* * *

_**FORTY-EIGHT HOURS EARLIER**_

* * *

Despite her two-month stretch as part of Mystic Falls' unemployed population, Snow made it a point to frequently visit her former boss at the Grill as she had grown an immense fondness for Roy Dawson from the very instant he entered her life and handed her the figurative key to her salvation.

Once Snow became a teenager, Lucille promptly ceased supplying her with the bare necessities she needed in order to survive. With Snow a teenager, the step-monster took advantage of the opportunity to thoroughly wipe her hands clean of the doting guardian act she had been forced to bear, and claimed she was old enough to earn her living – "_Nothing in life is free, Snow. This is me teaching you a valuable lesson. You're thirteen, which means you are capable of holding a job. I shall no longer let you remain under __**my**__ roof free of charge._"

Unfortunately, nobody was interested in hiring the orphaned girl. Apparently, hiring the rich heiress and providing her with an extra income was an insult to the lesser folks of Mystic Falls that weren't blessed at birth with immeasurable riches. The wealth of the Silverstone family was known as a legend and a subject of great envy around town; therefore, the fact that Snow, the sole beneficiary of the Silverstone fortune who stood to inherit _everything_ upon her eighteenth birthday, wanted to rob the hardworking lower-class people of a means of earning a living was a blasphemous act she should be ashamed of.

None of them bothered to look close enough to uncover the lies Lucille painstakingly created and portrayed to idyllic Mystic Falls, otherwise they'd have realized thirteen-year-old Snow Silverstone was abused on a near daily basis, or that she was too skinny for her age, or too unkempt for a rich girl, or that while Lucille and the twins dressed in the best fabrics or designer clothes of the latest fashion, Snow never failed to leave the house in secondhand clothes. No one found it odd how Lucille and the twins frequented Mystic Cuts to style or trim their hair in order to keep it healthy while Snow had to learn at a young age the art of cutting off split-ends over the bathroom sink – at least until Carol Lockwood discovered Lucille's latest transgression and took umbrage at the blatant disregard to the maintenance of Snow's appearance which ultimately concluded with Carol's French hairstylist, Bastien Toussaint, being officially assigned as Snow's personal coiffeur; a wonderful backfire fashioned by Karma Herself, according to Caroline Forbes.

Preferring to bury their heads in the sand and keep donning their Lucille-approved rose-tinted glasses, most of the townspeople believed the reasons behind Snow's impecunious façade were either the depression, an indelible mark elicited by Stanley Silverstone's death, which influenced her ragamuffin appearance, _or_ plain and simple, that Snow was an archetypal miser.

However, following the norm of her life, a miracle shone on Snow just when all hope seemed to be lost. A miracle in the form of a heavy-set man with a gruff voice and a giving disposition. Roy Dawson had a knack for weeding out the truths from the lies and instantaneously saw right through Lucille's masquerade, easily detecting the charade in her performance. Showing Snow compassion and giving her the break she desperately needed, he offered her a job at the Grill. She started out small, only responsible for sweeping duty, then one year later, she got promoted to kitchen duty, until finally, at fifteen, Roy upgraded her from a dishwasher to a waitress, the more attractive role accompanied with a higher paycheck and access to more sizeable tips.

From the moment he came to Snow's aid, she looked up to Roy, considering him an honorary uncle, of which the sentiment was wholly reciprocated. He genuinely cherished Snow and proclaimed her his niece. Additionally, he blatantly showered her with favoritism, covering up for her with Lucille and secretly appointing her paid leave during the holidays, and occasionally, she would go over to his house for a home-cooked dinner with him and his wife, Ginny Dawson. Therefore, despite her changed status to unemployed once Logan claimed guardianship over her, Snow persistently visited Roy either early morning or mid afternoon – sometimes even both.

"Hey, Matty!" Approaching the recently vacated table he was tending to, Snow gave the handsome quarterback a soft smile. He grinned back and dropped the cleaning rag. Not wanting to hinder him from his work, she quickly looked around and not seeing the stern-looking man, asked, "Is Roy around?"

Smiling kindly at his demure friend, Matt shook his head in apology, "Sorry, Snow. You _just_ missed him. He got a call that his wife's in labor."

Vibrant violet orbs brightened with joy and she did a five-second short effervescent jig, making a mental note to visit Roy, Ginny and the littlest member of the Dawson family at the hospital after dance rehearsal for tomorrow's pageant. Suddenly, a little crease formed between her brows as a thought struck her, "Uh, if you don't leave now, you won't make it to the rehearsal? I mean, you _are_ Care's date, right…?"

Last night, Caroline came over for a sleepover at 'Fell's Hangout' – as Logan jokingly started calling it after the nonstop visitors hanging around, transforming his abode into the latest Grill – and excitedly sprang into an interminable speech regarding the Miss Mystic Falls pageant, her gorgeous quarterback date that complimented her _perfectly_, and her audacious dress choice, choosing to go with a jade-green instead of neutral colors the candidates almost _always_ tended to gravitate toward, hoping her bold choice would win her the crown. _That_ prompted Caroline's exuberance to drop, her tone wistful and melancholic as she divulged her innermost apprehensions; it wasn't merely the fact that she couldn't bear to lose against Elena _again_, but that all her life, the blonde strove to make a difference and follow in her grandmother and aunts' footsteps, all of whom won Miss Mystic in their time. In fact, her mother was the only Forbes woman to lose – having lost to Elena's mother – and Caroline didn't want the trend to continue with her.

And while Snow could see the appeal of winning after Logan revealed that in her days, Selene Silverstone won the crown, she wanted Caroline's dream to become a reality. Since their toddler days, Caroline Forbes constantly pranced around, babbling about her aspiration of winning Miss Mystic. Neither Snow nor Elena shared the blonde's ambitions, regardless of their mothers' respective wins, and therefore, it was only fair for Caroline to win.

Matt's visage morphed into sadness and regret. "I was supposed to. But I couldn't get off work and I, uh, I need the money," he sheepishly lifted a shoulder. Unlike with their other friends, Matt never felt embarrassed admitting his money problems to Snow; other than the fact the kind-hearted girl he grew up with wasn't the type to judge, she related with him the most. After all, the mistreatment she received at the hands of her stepmother and stepsisters couldn't be kept a secret from their close-knit group of friends, especially not after Carol Lockwood and Miranda Gilbert unraveled Lucille's charade.

Compassion replaced the joy in Snow's eyes and she scrunched her nose, thoughts of Caroline's disappointment percolating in her head, "Poor Care. She was really looking forward to parading you around as her escort." And just as quickly as the joy diminished, it resurged with a sudden epiphany. "Don't worry, I've a feeling things will be looking up soon," she sent him a conspiratorial wink that he couldn't decipher. Shaking his head in good humor, a soft smile on his face, Matt squeezed her shoulder in goodbye and went to take orders from a beckoning customer, not knowing that the raven-haired girl had already begun mapping out a plan that would get him out of work so that he could escort Caroline to the pageant.

She left the Grill in high spirits, practically vibrating with excitement. A bright smile on her face, Snow did the customary glance from left to right, and then left again before putting a leg forward to cross the road and complete the short trek to Mystic Falls High. However, she didn't have the chance. A firm hand wrapped around her wrist, immovable like the metal ring of a handcuff, and in the span of a second, she was forcibly yanked from public view and into the seclusion of the Grill's back alley, her back consecutively slamming into the wall. Her breath hitched briefly when a tall, taut form pressed against her, caged between whoever accosted her and the stone wall.

Fearful eyes widened significantly once they connected with the pair of piercing blues that's been haunting her since the start of the year.

"J-Joshua, le-leave me al-alone, _p-please_," Snow whimpered, beseeching him with watering eyes. Dainty hands curled around his pair of defined biceps and, with all the strength she could muster, endeavored to push him away, to no avail. He just wouldn't budge. Rolling his eyes at her pitiful attempts, Joshua lifted a hand and carded it through her raven locks in what was supposed to be a soothing motion – if she wanted to be within a feet of him, which she _didn't_. "Babe, come on, don't be like that. There's no need to be scared of me. I _just_ want to talk. Cross my heart," he concluded, displaying the notorious smirk that succeeded in winning over many hearts and bed companions.

His actions didn't invite reassurance, for Snow noted a glint in his eyes that didn't bode well for her. Nevertheless, she swallowed the lump from her throat and whispered, "O-Okay, what do y-you-, what do you w-want to-to talk about?" She inwardly chastised herself for constantly stuttering.

"Well…" Joshua prefaced in a lazy drawl. He twisted a lock of glossy black around his index finger. "As a daughter of a Founding family you're part of the Court. Word through the rumor mill's you haven't scored a date, thought we'd go together. What d'you say?" he smirked, the glint in his piercing eyes sharper. "I mean, you can't show up by yourself, can you? It's _pathetic_. And the dance is tomorrow… you're running out of time, babe."

Comprehension dawned on Snow's breathtaking features and she sucked in a sharp intake of breath. Unfortunately, she couldn't contest his claims. Embarrassingly, finding a date for the pageant completely slipped Snow's mind, what with her haunting dreams of the evil being with malicious yellow eyes, the many revelations regarding her father and herself, Danica's arrival, the tomb vampire fiasco, and her two-week coma… time elapsed at a terrifying rate. In the end, Snow mulled over the idea of asking Damon, confident that the vampire perceived her as a friend and nothing more.

Steeling herself for his inevitable harsh reaction, Snow managed to coherently stutter, "Thank you, J-Joshua. That's, that's _very_ k-kind of you to-, to offer, but I-I al-already have somebody in-in mind- _ouch_!" A groan of pain tore through her plump lips as his grip turned from intimidating to excruciating. The hand locked on her waist tightened and the finger threaded with a strand of hair tugged, her scalp burning at the intensity of his attack. Attempting to extricate herself from his presence was futile, her efforts when it came to Joshua Reeves as always, fruitless.

Both hands free, he clasped her upper arms and like a rag doll, violently shook her. Her body moved in a forward-backward motion, each time her back scraping against the wall's stone tiles. His vice grip seared her and Snow feared he'd crush her bones.

"Pl-please, just let me g-go!" driven by desperation, Snow cried out, her voice a decibel louder with pure fear.

She was so _sick and tired _of filling in for the role of the poor, defenseless damsel in distress in need of rescuing. How was it that she could involuntarily vanquish a _vampire_ with some mystifying blast of light from within her, but she couldn't fend off some hotheaded teenager incapable of accepting rejection?

The risk of detection high what with their location, knowing that, with Snow's whimpers and pleas, any of the Grill's patrons could walk in on them, Joshua hurried to place a hand over Snow's mouth, successively muffling her weak screams for help and started dragging her deeper into the alley, much further from prying eyes and listening ears. All of a sudden, pervading from the mouth of the alley, a voice with a hint of steel resounded through, which had Joshua stopping short, "This looks familiar. _Let her go, Reeves_!"

Violet eyes frantically scoured her surroundings and her entire form sagged with relief at the sight of an absolutely furious Tyler Lockwood. While Joshua Reeves had a frightening temper, it didn't receive the same notoriety as the inborn trait of aggression that coursed through the Lockwood family. Tyler's already dark eyes were darker, lancing right into Joshua.

Joshua's grip strengthened and she winced, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach aroused by the glint that never vanished from his piercing eyes. For a moment there, Snow strongly believed the hulking blonde wasn't about to release her as opposed to all the previous times he got caught harassing her. That quickly changed when her back banged into the stone wall. However, despite the pain of being harshly tossed aside, relief flooded her when she no longer felt his hands searing tattoos into her, the faint sound of his retreating footsteps fading into the din of traffic.

Wincing slightly and eyes squinted in pain, Snow attempted to pick herself up from the ground. Suddenly, Tyler's hand thrust into her line of vision and to her mortification, Snow couldn't suppress the violent flinch that wracked through her. At her knee-jerk reaction, he had to struggle to maintain a shard of composure, though Tyler's classically handsome visage _still _darkened with incensed anger, "Silverstone, you really should report Reeves in. This is the _second_ _time_ I've had to intervene."

Her mortification surging to epic proportions, Snow blinked back tears and chose to examine the ground intently instead of meeting the pair of disapproving onyxes. "S-_Sorry_," she murmured. The last time she saw Tyler, he had his tongue down Kelly Donovan's throat and then proceeded to pummel his fist into Matt's face after the latter caught the pair in the midst of their intense lip-lock session. For the past week, Tyler's been hounding Matt to accept his apology, to no avail. Deciding to stop by the Grill for another round of groveling, stumbling across the dangerously escalating confrontation had merely been _another_ fortuitous coincidence.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Tyler stared at the dark-haired girl, his disapprobation clear, "_Sorry_? What the hell are _you_ apologizing for?!" Almost instantly, he regretted the harshness of his tone at Snow's flinch, watery eyes finally connecting with his face. Ejecting a long sigh, Tyler adopted a softer approach. Picking her fallen purse, he slowly handed it over, "What did Reeves want anyway?"

Biting her lower lip in consternation, Snow busied herself by brushing off the dirt lingering on the backside and thighs of her jeans. "He wanted to be my escort for the pageant," Snow divulged softly, a grateful smile painting her lips as she took her proffered purse. "Wouldn't…_couldn't_ take no for an answer," her irritation showed in her tone.

Tyler had absolutely _no_ idea what possessed him to make the offer, the words just spilled out, "How about I be your escort? Be your buffer." At the parting of Snow's lips in shock and her disbelieving stare, he hastened to emphasize, not wanting her to jump to a wrong conclusion, "_As_ _friends_."

The reason behind the clarification had nothing to do with physical beauty. Tyler wasn't blind; he was a ladies' man through and through and therefore, knew how to distinguish and appreciate beauty. Snow Silverstone was beyond gorgeous… _heck_, there were _no _words in the English language with the power to aptly define just how beautiful the girl was. Simply put, personality-wise, she wasn't his type. Tyler preferred girls who were outspoken and wild, and insatiable in bed, while Snow was the type of girl who needed to be protected and cherished and treated with utmost patience, like a paragon diamond.

With an adorable tilt of her head, Snow let out a shy giggle that resembled bells. "Friends? No-no offense Tyler, but… we grew up together and, in the seventeen years that I've known you, I can count the amount of times we had a _real _conversation on one hand. And two of them were because you walked in on Joshua harassing me…" she drifted off awkwardly and her eyes dropped bashfully, suddenly interested in the ground. Like a pendulum, one of her legs hovered over the ground and swung freely from left to right, making half-circles over her other leg.

At the veracity of her words, his face puckered into a frown, realizing he couldn't dispute her; it was a hundred percent true. Ever since they were old enough to crawl, Elena, Caroline, Bonnie, Snow, Matt and himself were constantly brought together for a string of unending playdates at the urging of their parents – all of whom were friends and similarly, grew up together – in hopes their children would grow up and become close friends as well, especially the children belonging to the Founding families. However, as they matured, Snow formed an unbreakable bond with the other girls and maintained an amicable friendship with Matt while Tyler and Snow did not. For some reason, the two never clicked and proceeded to regard each other as acquaintances from the same circle of friends.

Truthfully, the outcome of their relationship happened against all odds. His parents both _doted_ on Snow, treating her like the daughter they never had. Nearly every holiday and birthday was spent together and, in some ways, it felt like Snow was a distant relation of the Lockwood's what with how involved she was in family matters. _Hell_, she even had her own _room_ at the mansion. Yet, despite their many interactions and involvement in each other's lives, their relationship never evolved past "_hello_", "_goodbye_" or the occasional holiday and birthday greetings.

"True," Tyler uttered, snapping back to the present. "I'm willing to change that if you are… I mean, I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm prone to doing pretty stupid shit every now and then, and my temper? Totally famous around here. I bet you one day, books'll be written about it. Hell, maybe even a movie," he joked, all traces of anger or discomfort erased from his sharp features. Snow cracked a lovely grin at that, like a shaft of sunlight slipping through a small crack, and squarely met his eyes with her unique pair. "I could use more friends in my life and I think you'd make a pretty good conscience. Stop me from getting into all kinds of trouble," his open-mouthed grin was a mixture of sheepish and shameless.

Snow scrutinized her childhood friend, _slash_, acquaintance who suffered from major lapses of uncontrollable anger. Discerning the honesty in, not only his tone, but his entire being, radiating out of him in calm waves, she nodded, "So could I." She then performed a perfect curtsy, eyes twinkling with merriment, "Would you, Mr. Lockwood, do me the honor of being my escort for the pageant tomorrow… _as_ _friends_?"

Faking a posh accent, Tyler responded, "I would be _delighted_, Miss Silverstone."

Giggling, Snow accepted the arm he offered and allowed herself to be steered toward his car parked at the curb near the Grill, and made their way to dance rehearsal, where no doubt, Carol Lockwood would be over the moon at the sight of her children finally getting along.

* * *

Glaring at the unapologetic pair of electric blue eyes, Logan was overcome with a feeling of déjà vu at the unwelcome and _wholly_ unwanted visitor. "Oh no. _Do_ come in. _I insist_," he mocked, a growl building up in his throat. A muscle twitching in his jaw, he shut the front door with a slight flick of his hand and whirled around, pivoting on his heel to storm into the kitchen where he had been preparing lunch for when Snow returned from rehearsal.

Naturally, the irritating shadow followed. "_What_? What's got your panties in a wad? I knocked, didn't I," he shrugged, genuinely nonplussed by Logan's standoffish behavior. Looking up from the pot of half-done beef stroganoff, hazel orbs widened marginally in surprise, and he promptly released the wooden spoon to fixate his undivided attention on the ill-mannered Salvatore brother, "My _God_. You really don't know. Damon, when stopping by at somebody's home, it is _common courtesy_ to wait for an invitation. _Just because_ you're a vampire and _just because_ Snow gave you permission to enter this house, does _not_ mean you can barge in whenever you feel like it."

Damon spluttered, "That's _ridiculous_."

"Not when I don't like you, it's not," Logan retorted shamelessly, unblinking and unapologetic as he delivered the truth. Unaffected by the sting of his statement, Damon smirked, one corner of his mouth creeping upward to portray his insouciance, "I don't like you either, yet here I am. So why don't you cool your raging hormones, we've got problems, Fabio."

Arms crossed tightly against his chest which accentuated his defined muscles and buff pectorals, Logan rolled his eyes and emitted a loud gust of breath, its length laced with heavy irritation, "You mean problems _besides_ your complete _lack_ of door etiquette." His head did a swiping motion in disbelief, "You know, for somebody who was born during the Victorian era, aren't you supposed to have gentlemanly manners? Or was its loss a side-effect of vampirism?" He adopted a taunting tone, crinkles forming around his eyes as his annoyance vanished, much like it usually did at the chance to provoke Damon.

Electric blues glared heavenward, "You're hilarious." Receiving a wicked smirk in response, Damon huffed, "You _done_?"

"Alright, alright," hands out, palms facing him in a placating manner, Logan retook his vacated spot by the stove and lowered the gas. "Lemme guess, Stefan-related problems?" At the grim nod, Logan's mouth turned into a hard line and a deep vee formed between his brows, "Don't tell me he got abducted by the tomb vamps that managed to get away? 'Cause _seriously, _Damon, I'm sure there's a quota of the amount of times a vampire is allowed to get kidnapped in a month, and Stefan's used up his. _Yeesh_."

Damn, he _hated_ Logan Fell. _Damon_ was the flippant vampire with the repertoire of sarcastic, funny… and sometimes ill-timed comments. He hated how alike they were. "You're a real comedian," he snarked sarcastically, hand clapping together in slow motion. To which he received a nonchalant one-shoulder shrug, "Eh, I don't try, really. Just comes out naturally." The comment was emphasized by a cheeky wink, infuriating Damon even more, if that were possible!

"Stefan's drinking human blood," he blurted out, his proximity to Logan causing his patience to die a painful death.

Those four words eradicated all signs of amusement from the mirthful vampire. A grim set to his jaw, Logan counted down from ten in his head while he kept his breathing even in order to maintain his composure. "Okay, so Stefan's drinking human blood," he forced his tone into one of nonchalance, though his expression was anything but. "Tell me what're we dealing with here? When you say Stefan's back to drinking human blood, you mean he's got a modicum of control and _isn't_ at risk of turning into a ripper, or…?"

"I _mean_, Stefan _believes_ he's got a modicum of control but really, the next person to accidentally nick themselves in front of Stefan would most probably become a human jigsaw puzzle," Damon disclosed morbidly. Logan's expression darkened and he buried his face in his palms, a groan escaping him – it were times like these where he contradicted himself and thanked God that Snow lacked a scent. Huffing, Damon continued, "He's out of control, Logan! No, actually scratch that, he doesn't know the _meaning of control_!"

Recognition dawned on Logan, and he didn't know whether he should be grateful for being kept out of the loop or _furious_. "_That's_ what the meeting at Founders' Hall was about. John said there was a disturbance at the hospital's blood bank last night. _Stefan_?" he asked, despite the answer being written all over Damon's face. Initially, he had feared Snow's attacker had returned, now…_not so much_.

Grimly, Damon nodded, "Oh he tried to deny it. He gets points for that. But once I caught him red-handed he dropped the ruse, claimed some crap about having it all under control." He scoffed loudly, clearly disbelieving Stefan. "Then he spouted off _more crap _about getting strong enough to protect Elena and Snow. Normally, I'd rejoice, I've wanted Stefan to drink human blood and learn control, to peel off that poster child for Prozac image he made for himself. But _now_, with John Gilbert snooping around for _vampires_-" he did quotation marks with his fingers, "-making threats, _blackmailing me_, not a good time. Not a good time _at all_!" Teeth grinding together, he snarled under his breath, "_Damn it,_ Elena!"

His protective instincts in full swing, Logan quickly spoke up on Elena's behalf, "_Hey_! In her defense, Frederick did a number on Stefan. Elena isn't used to seeing the horrors you are. She panicked. Did what she could to relieve his pain. Don't pin this on her." Eyebrows flying upward, Logan sneered, "In fact, you wanna pass on blame, take a good look in the mirror. You were so hell-bent on opening that tomb-" he spread his hands out in a histrionic manner and looked around, "-look where that got us."

"You're seriously starting the blame game, Fell. _Not cool_," Damon retorted, his sneer an impressive mix between churlish and menacing. But Logan didn't back down; stepping forward and into the older vampire's personal space, he spat out, "Hey, I'm just finishing what you started. Don't go around distributing blame if you're not gonna own up to your own mistakes. If you left well enough alone, we wouldn't _be_ in this situation."

Tensions running high, both vampires were at risk of lashing out at each other when, at that exact moment, the bell rang, snapping them out of their fear-induced rage and back to the present and the issues at hand.

Roughly dragging a hand down his face, Logan flounced to the foyer at human speed and pulled open the door with a slightly dramatic flair. Overwhelmed hazel eyes glared into a pair of condescending sapphires. Head craned backward, Logan groaned, a hand disappearing into his tousled honey-blonde head of hair, "_Just_ what this party needed. What can I do for you, John?"

Damon must have followed him as John's gaze traveled from Logan to a point behind him and back again. "Hey partners!" John smirked, walking past Logan and into the house like he owned the place.

"Another one without manners. _Fantastic_," Logan snarled, and despite the situation and his current mood, Damon smirked. Though that smirk promptly dropped when he realized Logan was comparing him to _John Gilbert_. He glared at Logan and hissed, "_Not cool_!"

This time, Logan smirked.

Making a beeline toward the bar, Logan poured himself a drink, "You two really know how to drive a guy to day drink, y'know that." He kept his back to them, knocked back his drink and consecutively poured more scotch into his glass. Turning around, he spared each man a winsome grin and took a sip, "Seems I need some Dutch courage if I'm gonna be stuck in a room with the two of you."

"Speaking of manners, it's rude not to offer your guest a drink," Damon pointed out, John Gilbert having the same effect on him as well.

Having had taken another sip of his drink, Logan choked on a laugh, "True, true. _If _either one of you _were_ guests of mine instead of unwelcome visitors." Mocking a hurtful expression, Damon placed a hand to his chest before he went round the bar to make himself a drink. Mouth a thin line, Logan rolled his eyes and pinned the sole mortal with his gaze, "Why are you here, John?"

Throughout the interaction between the two vampires, sapphire eyes observed intently, "I have to say, this is an unlikely friendship I did _not_ see coming."

Twin scoffs reverberated against the walls, Damon going as far as to chuckle into his drink. "_Yeah_," Logan drawled, head shaking in disagreement. "Damon and I? We're _not_ friends. At best, frequent allies. There's no love lost between us; we tolerate each other for Snow, that's it. Now-" leaning against the bar, forearm propped on the bartop and finger absentmindedly circling the rim of his glass, Logan initiated eye contact with his old school friend, "-you know how much I hate repeating myself, so please don't make me._ What_ do you want?"

Shrugging, sapphires landed on the nonchalant vampire standing behind the bar. "You haven't returned my calls. When I didn't find you at the Boarding House, my second guess was you'd be here, chumming up with your new _vampire_ buddy," the amount of loathing on the word vampire would've had a lesser man wince. Instead, Logan raised his glass in the air and took another sip, smirking around its rim.

"Most people take that as a hint," Damon retorted snarkily.

Brushing off Damon's words, John got down to business, clapping his hands together, "Where do we start looking for vampires?"

A guffaw burst from Logan. However, belying his attitude, his eyes were twin steels of fury, no longer swirling with warmth or exuding mirth, a portrayal of the true predator within, "Cut to the chase, John. Stop acting coy with us, hmm. You _obviously_ don't care about catching vampires, _or at least_, outing us to the council. So what is it you really want?" Wildness glinted in hazel eyes, matching wonderfully with the wicked smirk on his lips, "Don't be shy now, Johnny. C'mon, spit it out."

John's relaxed posture turned rigid at the old nickname and his eyes flashed. A brief pause ensued before he masked his fury behind the asshole mask he perfected almost two decades ago. "You know, despite the age difference, I forgot how alike you and Selene were. You even _talk_ like her." The corner of his mouth slowly curled up in a smirk, "Let's hope you don't end up like her, too."

Composure lost, the short-glass shattered in Logan's enclosed fist, the knuckles bone-white and palm bleeding as it acted as a pincushion for the shards of glass. Blinded by rage and John's _audacity_, he grabbed him by the collar with his unharmed hand and slammed him into the nearest wall, his vampire face struggling not to emerge, "_Don't you dare_! Don't you _fucking DARE_ talk about Selene like that, you piece of shit! _You_ don't get to talk about her. Not like that. Not with blatant disrespect. _Not_ in front of me. Not after you and your stick-in-the-mud brother alienated her!" The mention of Grayson prompted the pair of sapphires to flash again, the same fury roiling in Logan's belly affecting John. He slammed his bloody, glass-encrusted fist against the wall, completely numb to the pain he inflicted upon himself as the shards dug deeper, some disappearing under the skin and staying lodged inside as they knitted closed. "I promise you, John. I don't give a flying _fuck_ about our past friendship, I hear you disrespect Selene again, or poke fun of her death, I _swear_, I'll rip your fucking tongue out, see how long you'll survive without that silver tongue of yours, _Johnny_," Logan threatened, his tone matching the darkness of his eyes which were almost pitch black with rage.

Damon, who had been watching the dispute the two old friends were embroiled in with an enjoyable air about him, suddenly abandoned his drink and his smirk upon hearing light footsteps ascend the doorsteps and the jingle-jangle of keys being withdrawn.

Intervening, Damon had time to pull a bemused and equally furious Logan off of John just as the door swung open and a cheerful Snow stepped in, her sweet melodious voice permeating the air. "Uncle Logan, I'm _baaack_…" she stopped short at the sight before her and awkwardly trailed off, the hostile atmosphere forming a cocoon around her. Her eyes flickered between the three men in the room, "Um… hello, Mr. Gilbert. Uncle Logan, Damon is-_uh_, is everything okay?"

"Snow," John curtly acknowledged her, cutting the two vampires off before they could formulate an answer to her inquiry. He decided to cut to the chase and turned to face Damon. "I'll just say what I came here to say and be out of your hair. Isobel and I share a mutual interest. The original Jonathan Gilbert has an invention that was stolen by a vampire. _That vampire_ was then burned alive in Fell's church, or so Johnathan thought and the invention was lost forever. But then the vampires _weren't_ killed, _were they_?" he asked rhetorically before continuing with his speech, "They were trapped and now they're free, thanks to _you_ which means, the invention is retrievable."

"What is it?" Damon inquired, not about to hand over a device that could prove detrimental to his health and continued existence, especially since that somebody made his hatred of vampires abundantly clear, _repeatedly_. He liked his life, and wanted to continue living it, _thank you very much_.

Recovered from the intense tiff between himself and Logan, John shook his head, his infamous condescending smirk making a reappearance, "The only thing that matters is that I want it back and you're going to help me if you want your secret safe. And before you play the ignorant card here, you know _exactly _who it was. _Pearl_. Her name ringing any bells?"

The long pause that ensued as the three men glared at each other was Snow's greatest nightmare, the tension gutting her and making her feel faint. Her rotating gaze suddenly landed on Logan's bloody hand, prompting a shriek to leave to her lips which in turn, had the trio jumping in alarm and look around frantically for a threat.

"Oh my _God_, Uncle Logan what _happened_?" she gasped, ditching her purse on the nearest couch and running over to her godfather's side, carefully taking his mangled hand in her dainty ones and inspecting it. A scowl that actually looked adorable and unthreatening appeared on Snow's beautiful face, "Did you do this to yourself?" Logan parted his mouth, ready to downplay the injury, but before he could get a word in, Snow bulldozed on, his emotions betraying him, "_Uncle Logan_!" Her narrowed gaze stabbed a snickering Damon, and she huffed, not amused in the slightest, "Damon, can you get me the pair of tweezers from the first aid kit, please."

Said vampire floundered and after opening and closing his mouth quite a few times, grudgingly retreated to the communal bathroom as ordered.

Throughout it all, John watched, visibly amused by how efficiently and effectively Snow ordered them around, even Damon Salvatore who was _notorious_ for his emotionless state and volatile behavior, was completely whipped by the slip of a girl.

"Snow, honey. Really, it's nothing, I can get them out by myself," Logan attempted to simultaneously console and distract her, but she wasn't having any of that, clucking over him like a worried mother-hen. He then scowled at John, "Wipe that smirk off your fa—" A whiff of something absolutely rotten infiltrated his nostrils, cutting him off. Brows lowered and nose wrinkled in disgust, Logan measured his fretting goddaughter in concern, "Jellybean, why do you smell like somebody died?"

Two perfectly plucked brows snapped together before Snow squarely looked into Logan's eyes, beaming, "_Oh_, I stopped by the hospital after rehearsal. Mrs. Dawson gave birth to a _boy_. _Isn't that great_! He's _so_ adorable."

Smiling at Snow's enthusiasm, Logan listened intently and nodded along. John however, obtained a narrow-eyed look, his instincts screaming that something was amiss… he just couldn't put a finger on _what_ exactly. Shaking his head, John turned to leave when his intense sapphire eyes fell on the twin hand-shaped bruises indented on Snow's upper arms. "What happened there?" he inquired sharply, his voice strained as he knew _exactly_ what happened. Some asshole laid his hands on the soft-spoken girl.

Nervous, Snow rapidly shook her head, her eyes twin balls of terror, "No-_nothing_. J-just clumsy—"

"That's not a bruise somebody gets from bumping into a wall, Snow," John eyed her suspiciously. "That's an imprint of someone's hands, specifically a _male's hands_. You've been manhandled recently."

Horror painted Logan's handsome face before he grew murderous and Damon subsequently flashed into the room. When electric blue eyes fell on the handprints, a growl slipped past his lips. "_Who did this_?" the two vampires echoed, their eyes brimming with incensed rage.

Leaving Snow to nervously stutter out a string of denials and excuses to the vampires tag teaming her, John pivoted on his heel and stormed out, his face grave and the muscles on his jaw twisting madly, a fire growing in the depths of his sapphire eyes… _he had work to do_.

* * *

The day of the pageant finally dawned.

It was unanimously decided that, after thirteen years of speaking of and dreaming about this long-awaited day, Snow, Elena and Caroline would carpool together to Founders' Hall, Logan their elected personal chauffeur much to Jenna's frustration. And despite the sadness gnawing at Snow and Elena over their respective mothers' absence _and_ Bonnie's cold shoulder act, having returned to Mystic Falls the day before with a new frame of mind, which ironically enough for Snow, was cutting all ties with vampires and likewise, whoever allied with them – hence, Elena and Snow – Caroline's excitement was infectious, especially once she started to indulge in reminiscence.

The three daughters of the Founding families _strongly_ believed the Founders Ball would epitomize their fairytale moment – getting all dolled up in stunning gowns, sharing a dance with their respective princes, and finally, the crowning of Miss Mystic Falls. Unfortunately, while Caroline and Elena found their prince, Snow didn't. However, she _had _managed to gain a knight in shining armor – a close second best.

No sooner had the girls reached, did Carol whisk Snow to one of the private dressing rooms where Bastien Toussaint awaited her, his arsenal of hairdressing tools and products spread out and ready. Bastien was the quintessential Frenchman – handsome, flirtatious, pristinely dressed, talkative, and had a sexy blush-inducing English accent. Sparkling green eyes swept her form and Snow immediately got drawn into a warm embrace, Bastien placing a chaste kiss on her cheek in greeting.

"Hi, Bast," Snow beamed up at the handsome twenty-eight-year-old, a rosy flush decorating her porcelain white cheeks. "You cut your hair. I like it!" she remarked; Bastien's shoulder-length chocolate curls were now short and tousled with a windswept appearance.

Fired up at the chance to transform his favorite client into the belle of the ball, Bastien cupped her face gently, his smile painted with an illegal amount of charm, "Bonne après-midi, ma belle neige." Behind them, the sound of a throat clearing loudly broke them apart, two sets of eyes landing on an unimpressed Logan Fell. The Frenchman appeared intrigued, green eyes shamelessly raking the vampire's defined muscular form, "_Ooh la la_, you are _tr__è__s magnifique_!"

Hand over mouth, Snow attempted to smother a giggle, her twinkling violets connecting with her honorary aunt's amused grays. Flummoxed by the immediate change, becoming victim to the Frenchman's flirting an unexpected scenario, especially since Logan was familiar with _making advances_ and not being a recipient of another's, he arched a brow and crossed his arms against his chest, "Do you have a tendency to flirt with anything that moves?"

A salacious smirk painting his lips, Bastien winked. "Only za _gor_geous ones," his accent was more pronounced, his 'r' a sexy purr.

Deciding to put an end to the one-sided flirtatious banter, Carol clapped her hands together, demanding their undivided attention, before she practically shoved Logan out of the dressing room, _repeatedly _assuring the overprotective guardian that despite the French charm, Snow's virtue would remain a hundred percent intact, subsequently getting him to finally depart from the room and consequently leaving behind a mortified Snow, her complexion suffering from an infusion of red.

With the completion of nearly two hours of beautifying, primping and preening, Snow reunited with Caroline in the grand communal dressing room. Standing in front of the floor to ceiling mirror, Snow found herself transfixed by her reflection, coruscating violet eyes drinking in her appearance with undisguised disbelief. By no means was Snow an arrogant person; she always felt confident in her body, and compared to her step-sisters, she could admit she was a pretty girl. However, compared to her friends, Snow considered herself average. In fact, her friends found themselves in a constant state of confused disbelief, incapable of comprehending _how_ Snow could be so perceptive regarding everyone and everything, barring herself.

This was a _Eureka_ moment for sure. As violet eyes connected with their mirror image, Snow finally acknowledged the truth everyone had endeavored to ingrain in her head… _she was beautiful_.

Carol Lockwood picked out a simple yet stunning gown that looked like it had been explicitly made for Snow; it flattered her hourglass figure, accentuated the color of her eyes, and complemented her complexion, epitomizing the impression of an Ice Queen. It was a blush-colored gown with a plunging sweetheart neckline that flattered her décolletage, and femininely cut with an elegant floor-sweeping train. Her feet were clad in four-inch white leather pumps with pearlized spikes, the iconic red soles identifying them as Louboutin. Bastien styled her hair into ringlets and pinned them back to cascade down her back and display her graceful swanlike neck. Her face however, was done naturally, the black mascara standing out the most, further enlarging her doe eyes.

"You look _gorg_!" Caroline squealed as she applied rose lipstick on the demure girl's plump lips. Jenna and Elena approached them, and the three best friends gushed over each other's appearance, their smiles bright with nostalgia.

Shortly afterward, Damon interrupted and, after shooting Snow a meaningful look and ignoring Caroline's suspicious glare, took Elena aside. Nervous, the raven-haired girl wrung her wrist and followed the blonde toward the banister where they were supposed to congregate until Carol called out their respective names along with their escorts. That morning, Logan confided in her about Stefan's consumption of human blood and that contrary to his constant reassurances, he was slowly beginning to spiral out of control. While Snow's blood wouldn't entice Stefan, her godfather insisted and pleaded with her to maintain a distance from the vampire, ensuring that Damon was "_taking care of it_" and that Elena "_will be informed_."

Currently, Snow had a feeling Damon was taking care of it by informing Elena of her boyfriend's secret drinking habit and she felt a pang of sorrow for her best friend, certain that Elena would begin to blame herself for feeding him her blood in the first place.

"_Oh my God_!" the shocked exclamation from her left had Snow turning to Caroline, alarmed, fearing something had happened, her mind stupidly conjuring the image of a blood-spattered Stefan ripping into some poor unsuspecting girl's neck. Blinking, detecting the only change being the Fell twins joining them by the banister, Snow sheepishly rebuked herself for her overactive imagination and intermittent pessimism. Caroline's already radiant visage was luciferous, cornflower-blues sparkling with joy as they drilled into the ballroom downstairs. "Matt's here! I thought, I thought he had to work," she hissed excitedly, tugging insistently at Snow's forearm so she could have a peek as well.

Emitting bell-like giggles, Snow patted the insistent hand, "_Surprise_!" She threw a hand in the air, as though sprinkling confetti, beaming at the blonde who had stopped poking her like a loon and was instead blinking in bemusement, "I spoke to Roy last night and he gave Matt permission to take the day off as long as he does a double shift tomorrow. He wanted to surprise yo-_mpfhh_-"

The ending was cut off by a mouthful of bouncy curls as the blonde pulled her into a suffocating embrace, wrinkles and smudged makeup the _last _thing on her mind. "Oh my _God_!" she repeated, a strangled laugh escaping her. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, _thank you_! I cannot believe you did this! You're the greatest friend in the _entire history _of best friends. If there was an award for that, you would totally win it hands down! I love you, Snow. _So much_!" Caroline cried out, getting all emotional.

"I love you too, Care-bear," Snow responded in kind with a genuine smile. "Can't have you attend your crowning without your prince now, can we?"

Disregarding the envious glares from the snooty Fell twins, Caroline shook her head, a fond smile on her lips, "You always said that. Ever since we were little, you've always been so certain I'd win. I don't get it, especially with you and Elena as contestants—"

Snow promptly cut her off, ethereal eyes staring at the ceiling in a 'grant me patience' manner. "Care, if you're gonna believe _anything_ that comes out of my mouth, then believe this: you're. _going to_. _win_! I've never been more sure of anything. I'm telling you I've a feeling… and wasn't it you and Bonnie who said to never bet against my feelings? …So don't."

Laughter followed. It was true, though. For some perplexing reason, Snow had always been confident that Caroline Forbes would be the girl in their year to win Miss Mystic; not herself, and definitely not Elena – despite Caroline's refutation that Elena almost _always_ won everything, Snow a close second. However, throughout the years, whenever Snow claimed to have a feeling about something, like some freaky sixth sense, in the end, her feelings were dead on. One of the worst ones occurred recently – the morning of the party by the woods last spring, Snow anxiously claimed they should skip as she had a feeling something bad would happen; nobody listened, too high on the opportunity to drink, dance and party.

…That night, Grayson and Miranda Gilbert's car drove off Wickery Bridge and they died.

"We'll see if this _prediction_ of yours joins the list," Caroline smirked, though her eyes held a fond glint. Snow playfully swatted her shoulder, "It's _not_ a prediction. They're _feelings_."

Eyes rolling in good humor, Caroline retorted with a blithe, "_whatever_."

Silence ensued, and after five minutes of waiting, a small pout appeared on Snow's visage and she blurted out, "I'm nervous. Like really, really nervous, Caroline. Uncle Logan showed me a picture of my Mom when she won the pageant, and I… I pale in comparison to her, I-"

Caroline immediately cut Snow off from further condemning herself. The demure girl had always been too harsh and extremely _blind_ when it came to herself, "I love you to pieces, Snow, and I consider you my sister, and you give great advice to _everyone_, but… _ugh_! When it comes to matters about you, you are a _complete_ _idiot_. Your mother would be so damn proud of you! You're beautiful and kind and gentle, and _freakishly _smart. You've got _so_ much compassion and you can't bear to hurt a _fly_. You always put everyone first and yourself last. I wish you can see what we all see in you. You're one in a million, Snow Silverstone, _never_ doubt that."

After exchanging another suffocating embrace, a frazzled Elena joined them at the line-up, her sad doe eyes meeting Snow's, prompting her to link hands with the brunette and squeeze. Materializing at the head of the banister, Carol's gray orbs flickered past each contestant and, upon landing on Elena, concern became visible at the realization that they were one girl short, "Has anyone seen Amber?"

In unison, the girls shook their heads. Elena's worry and concern were almost identical to Snow's, their instincts screaming that Amber did _not_ flee because of a panic attack. However, they didn't have an opportunity to share their fears as the announcements commenced, Carol Lockwood in her element.

"Miss Caroline Forbes and her escort, Matthew Donovan."

Gracefully descending the stairs, a blinding smile pulling at her lips, Caroline glowed like a ball of energy as she drew nearer to her ecstatic boyfriend, hearts practically forming in his eyes and his smile just as blinding. Pride engulfed Snow, thrilled at her success in creating a wonderful memory for her best friend, one that Caroline would cherish till her dying breath, whether she won the title or not – which, _duh_, Snow knew she would.

"Miss Snow Silverstone and her escort, Tyler Lockwood," the pride and delight was glaringly obvious in her tone as the Mayor's wife announced the names of her son and the girl she considered a daughter.

A slew of negative emotions impaled Snow, and the lethal glares lancing through her from four distinctive pairs of eyes instantly let her know they belonged to Lucille, the twins, and Joshua – hate, anger, rage, envy, lust… Inhaling sharply, Snow determinedly focused her attention onto Tyler, his dark eyes kind and smile comforting. Having a new focal point, an onslaught of loving and positive emotions cradled Snow like a warm blanket and her glittering eyes made a quick sweep of the crowd, unshed tears brimming in them at the many faces of her loved ones beaming back, even Bastien, who stood beside an annoyed Logan and an amused Damon, was enthusiastically applauding her; when he caught her gaze, he winked, prompting her to swallow back her laughter – the timing was inappropriate, after all.

However, things took a confusing turn at the announcement of Elena's name. When she descended the stairs, Stefan's absence stood out like a sore thumb, and a bad feeling bubbled inside Snow's belly. Thankfully, Damon spared Elena from further embarrassment and stepped in to perform the traditional dance with her. After the customary bow and curtsey, the dance proceeded, and as Snow maintained decorum and sailed through the steps she felt Carol's pride waft around her. Despite her worries regarding Stefan's disappearance, Snow found herself actually enjoying herself, and Tyler was such a perfect gentleman, his peaceful mood banishing the negative emotions infiltrating her senses.

At that moment, Snow decided to postpone her worries and concerns, and just… _enjoy_ her fairytale moment. Who needed Prince Charming when she made a friend in her new Knight, a boy she had known since diapers.

It was a perfect dance and a perfect Ball, and hopefully, it would conclude with a perfect night.

* * *

_She jinxed it__!_

_She just __**had**__ to go ahead and __**jinx it**__!_

What should have been a _perfect night_, a night much similar to the one her mother participated in twenty years ago, drew to a nightmarish close.

The odd disappearance of Stefan _and_ Amber hadn't been a coincidence. The last vestiges of Stefan's control snapped when Elena was made aware of his human-blood binge. And poor Amber happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

No sooner had Caroline won Miss Mystic, did a grim-faced Logan and an anxious Damon approach her and Elena, subtly extricating them from the exuberant, celebratory crowd and into a vacant corner of the ballroom to apprise them of: A) the blood staining the mirror in the bathroom upstairs, B) Amber Bradley's missing status, and C) Stefan, high on human blood and _out of control_, _also_ happened to be missing. Connecting the dots was an extremely easy feat with those three glaringly obvious clues laid out in front of them.

Determined to locate Stefan before he could harm or worse, _kill_ Amber, Snow and Elena suffered a case of temporary deafness the split-second the two vampires _insisted _that they remain confined inside the building while they led the search for the missing duo. Exchanging eye rolls and a short grim nod, the girls simultaneously lifted the skirt of their respective dress which left their legs unhindered and prevented the train from trailing along the floor. Their hearing still selective, Snow and Elena ran forward.

Hissed expletives rang in the air before the two vampires appeared beside them, easily keeping pace with the obstinate teenagers. Throwing them a warning glare, they went two steps ahead, ensuring that if they _did_ find a rabid Stefan blinded by bloodlust, he would have to go through them to get to the girls.

A good distance away from Founders' Hall, Snow felt a disturbance as another set of emotions bombarded her, mostly a suffusion of determination and anger. Feeling a pinch between her brows, she turned her head a fraction to the side and in her peripheral, noticed Bonnie surreptitiously stalking them. Torn between confronting her aloof best friend and protecting Stefan and Amber, the decision was made for her when pain bloomed on her neck.

Eyes back front, Snow gasped at the ghastly sight that awaited them. Her blood turned to ice and a tornado of pain, agony, fear, anxiety, rage, grief and many more swirled around her and swept her away in its suffocating vortex.

Stefan's mouth and chin were coated in fresh blood, and he looked completely wild, his forest green eyes brimming with hunger as he caged Amber in his iron grip. Whimpers of pain left Amber, tears rapidly cascading down her face and onto her bitten neck, blood dripping at an alarming rate and staining her beautiful dress.

"Stefan, stop it!" Elena screamed, her tone borderline hysterical. Damon cautiously advanced on his brother, his hands raised in a placating gesture so as to not aggravate him and prompt him to accidentally kill Amber. And despite their antagonistic relationship, Damon and Logan worked well together, formulating a plan without the use of words. Logan disappeared from sight and suddenly reappeared a few feet behind Stefan; Damon and Logan strategically boxed the younger Salvatore in.

However, their efforts were wasted. Incensed over the fact that an innocent was about to die at the hands of a vampire, Bonnie pinned Stefan with the most hateful glare she could muster and nonverbally cast a pain-infliction spell, all the while ignoring Elena's pleas in the background for her to stop.

Feeling a sense of déjà vu, Snow felt something break from within her, like a rubber band ready to snap.

Amber's bone-chilling fear combined with Elena's despair, guilt and fear succeeded in crippling Snow. Stefan's unquenchable thirst, self-hatred and myriad of guilt, horror and anxiety prompted Snow to stagger backwards. Incapable of maintaining a standing position, she fell to her knees and used the ground as her anchor, hands desperately clutching at the strands of grass. Inhaling and exhaling sharply, it was no use; Bonnie's unadulterated fury and Stefan's screams of agony as the blood vessels in his brain consecutively burst, healed and burst in a loop, ended up being Snow's undoing.

Hit with a maelstrom of excruciating pain, the incessant agony to her brain feeling like it was about to spontaneously combust, a deafening, heart-wrenching scream… a disturbingly familiar eldritch scream with the power to trigger blackouts and damage the inner ear, resonated in the air around them.

Everyone stilled and all eyes travelled the length of the parking lot until they landed on Snow. Her face was contorted with indescribable pain and her violet eyes possessed an abnormal glow, bright violet light with a blinding quality emerging from her sockets.

Successfully snapped out of her haze of fury, Bonnie automatically released Stefan from the grips of her pain-infliction spell and as though triggered by the act, in a large burst of white light, Snow vanished from their midst, leaving absolutely no trace of her presence behind…

"SNOW?!" Frantic, eyes wide in profound fear, Logan yelled at the top of his lungs, "_SNOW_?!"

An eerie silence answered him.

* * *

_**MANNING, COLORADO**_

_**PRESENT DAY**_

* * *

Tensions running high and guilt on an all-time crescendo, the moment Sam mentioned a man named Daniel Elkins was found mauled to death in his home, the name struck Dean with familiarity and, realizing their father knew a 'D. Elkins' that lived in the same area code, the brothers instantaneously decided to check it out, hoping they would run into John Winchester. For the past week, the relationship between the brothers randomly alternated between hot and cold due to the violet-eyed girl that sat a heavy weight on their conscience, a new burden added to their already sagging shoulders. And it wasn't as though they hadn't tried their utmost hardest to locate the mystery teenager; the brothers attempted to search within the parameters for a girl between the ages of fifteen and eighteen with natural violet eyes, to no avail.

Either the girl didn't exist, which was _highly _unlikely since Sam's visions had yet to lead them astray and they had enough experience with them to realize they didn't feature imaginary individuals, or she had been expertly concealed from public records which, in retrospect, made sense with their recent knowledge of the demon's fixation on her.

The worst part about Sam's vision was the lack of insight regarding the date or at least the location, which added to the escalating tension when they religiously scoured the obituary section every morning, desperately hoping a pair of violet eyes wouldn't stare back at them amid the fine print. The unknown girl featuring in Sam's bizarre visions wasn't the main reason they were taking it personally; due to their crusade against the demon that robbed them of their mother and Sam of the love of his life, the brothers strongly felt it was their responsibility to save the girl's life and gank the evil bastard that caused their family so much pain and misery.

The overflow of relief at the initial sight of John Winchester knocking at the Impala's window however, drained when Sam remained tight-lipped about his visions. A surge of fury almost choked Dean and in a rare moment of apoplectic anger, his clenched fists ached to deck his little brother in the face.

Such _chickenshit_!

Sam was too immersed in his paranoia and worriment over what their father might think of him, he was willing to risk an innocent girl getting killed by that bastard demon!

When John's attention turned elsewhere, his intimidating gaze locked on his phone, Dean gave Sam a cold side-glance. "Since _when_ do you care about what Dad thinks?!" he hissed, a vein throbbing in his temple. However, before Sam could volley back with some _chickenshit_ retort, John pocketed his phone, his forehead overcrowded with worry lines, and his normally warm butterscotch eyes dark and frantic as his intense stare swiveled between his sons, "When you searched the place, did you, did you see a gun?" A desperate, almost impatient note could be detected in the Winchester patriarch's gruff voice, "An antique, a Colt revolver. _Did you see it_?"

Snapped back to the reason they made the trip to Colorado, Dean promptly replied, scratching the top of his head in bemusement at his father's strange attitude, his complete three-sixty in less than a minute completely befuddling, "Ah, there was, there was an old case but it was empty."

If there had been a speck of hope pulling John together, it vanished. He cursed loudly, his tone resigned and ominous, "They have it."

"You mean whatever killed Elkins?" Dean probed, burying the anger at his brother and terror for Violet Eyes for the meantime.

Before the brothers knew it, John inducted them into the hunt for the monsters that killed Elkins as, the gun he had in his possession was extremely important and, additionally, time was of the essence. Once safely ensconced in a motel room, John proceeded to educate them on _vampire _lore. Identifying the twin look of confusions openly displayed on his sons' faces, he sighed, his tone slightly apologetic and a mite defensive, "I thought there were extinct. I thought Elkins and-, and others had wiped them out. I was wrong."

"So, wooden stake to the heart, right?" Sam inquired, recalling his vision and the stake the violet-eyed girl had a tight grip on – maybe they were wrong and she _was_ a real-life Buffy. The look of recognition on Dean's face mirrored Sam's.

Shocking the brothers, John slashed his head quickly in disagreement. "Most vampire lore is crap. A cross won't repel them, sunlight won't kill them, and neither will a stake to the heart," he gruffly pointed out, the surreptitious glances exchanged between Dean and Sam not going unnoticed by him. Sensing his sons were keeping something important from him, something…_pivotal_, dark eyes narrowed under pinched eyebrows. However, John decided to postpone the inevitable confrontation _after_ the Colt was safe in his possession. "They need fresh human blood to survive. They were once people, so you won't know it's a vampire until it's too late."

Coming to a decision, Dean resolved to inform their father of the demon's next victim _after_ the hunt reached cessation as it would give Sam ample time to grow a backbone and come clean regarding the visions that's been plaguing him for the past months.

* * *

Luther examined the 'presents' his beloved mate got him with a keen eye. The girl had an air about her, like she would make an interesting addition to their nest; alas, the man only looked good enough to become lunch. Dark eyes watched the couple observantly; the final nail in the man's coffin was the lack of love between them, his senses honed through centuries of experience instantly deciphering their relationship to be mostly physical.

He may be a predator forced to kill in order to survive, but he wasn't a completely heartless vampire. If love existed between the couple, then they would have either died or transformed together – in both cases, they would be in each others' lives for an eternity.

Turning his back on the terrified couple, Luther barked orders to his nest, his voice a silky drawl that never failed to elicit immediate obedience, "Lock him up with the others!" In afterthought, he paused, a cruel smirk slowly forming on his devastatingly handsome face, "On second thought… go ahead and treat yourselves."

Raucous laughter ensued at the chance to commit a heinous act, and the bevy of vampires instantly cornered the terrified mortal. The girl stood in the corner, crying in fear as her boyfriend's screams pervaded the air, his form shrouded by the many bodies as they devoured him.

"There's something else, baby," Kate grinned, a seductive purr in her voice before she captured Luther's lips in a passionate kiss, disregarding the mortal woman's incessant sobbing in the background. Fingers intertwined, she led him to the bar where cash and a hodgepodge of silver were messily strewn. Vehemently confused, Luther's intense eyes bore into his mate's steel grays, "This all theirs?" He would have instantly known if the couple had a wealthy background.

A devious smile curled on her lips, "No. It's from an old friend of yours, Daniel Elkins. I caught his scent and thought I'd surprise you."

Much to Kate's disappointment, Luther was not pleased with her actions. Disapproval flickered across his handsome face and his eyes turned hard, "Kate, what did you _do_?!"

"_I made him suffer_!" she retorted heatedly. "I did it for you, for what he did to our family."

Dragging a hand through his hair, Luther snarled, "Revenge isn't worth much if you end up dead." Briefly, too quick to identify, a flash of fear ghosted past his face, "There's others like him. They'll know the signs and come looking for us. We have to be _careful_!"

Genuinely contrite for bringing the _possible _wrath of hunters to their nest, yet stubbornly adamant Elkins deserved death at their hands, Kate nevertheless uttered an apology as the Colt found its way into Luther's hand. He examined the weapon with a practiced eye. "I've seen this before. This is no ordinary gun," he marveled, dark orbs glittering with awe and greed.

Seeing the pleasure her gift evoked, Kate's confidence surged and with a coquettish smile, she plastered her front against his leather-clad back, hands lovingly stroking his defined abdominal muscles through his shirt and purred, "That's not all, baby. I brought you _another_ present."

Luther chuckled at his mate's childlike glee and, with an amused shake of his head, allowed her to lead him to the room reserved for potentials. No sooner had he crossed the threshold, did his eyes grow wide at the angelic looking girl spread on the dusty floor, her posture ramrod straight and eyes shut. His eyebrows almost hit his hairline and, disregarding the mortal's unparalleled beauty, he fixated Kate with impatience, "An adolescent girl? _Really_, Kate. Why not showcase her around with the couple?"

"Because Luther, this is no _ordinary_ girl," Kate stated confidently, a hand on her hip. At the narrowing of his gaze, she jutted her chin toward the girl, "Go ahead, take a whiff. Tell me what you make of her."

His expression humoring, Luther gracefully approached the unconscious beauty, crouched before her and, hit with absolutely no mouthwatering aroma, he bent further until his nose traced the front of her neck where he could sense the faint beat of her pulse, and his eyes promptly widened in awe. Sucking in a breath, wholly intrigued and entranced by the secrets this beauty had to offer, he stroked the apple of her cheek with the back of his fingers, a mounting addiction overcoming him at the mortal girl's warmth and the silky sensation of her unblemished skin. "How _extraordinary_. Never before had I encountered a mortal without a scent. Why is she in such a state?" dark orbs flashed, feeling protective of this human.

Kate shrugged, nonchalant and seemingly unbothered by her mate's fascination to the human girl. After all, the girl was an enigma and who better to solve her origins that her gorgeous mate. "We found her that way. If it weren't for her soft heartbeat and the warmth of her skin, I'd have thought her a corpse," the brunette concluded, her inane interest in the state of her nails encouraging ignorance to the lust clouding Luther's gaze, which remained unmoving from the unconscious beauty.

* * *

The Boarding House was in a profound state of bedlam.

Like an ongoing trend in Mystic Falls, the feeling of déjà vu enveloped Logan. The split-second Snow vanished before his very eyes in a blinding burst of white light, everything went to hell in a handbasket. Leaving the compulsion of Amber Bradley and the report of her attack to Sheriff Forbes for Damon to handle, Logan gathered a hysterical Elena, a speechless Bonnie and a guilt-ridden Stefan to his car and broke a plethora of traffic violations on his way to the Boarding House where Damon joined them shortly after.

Ashamed by his weakness, that Elena saw him at his worst, of his attack on Amber, and the inadvertent part he played in Snow's disappearance, Stefan didn't put up a fuss when Damon and Elena suggested he stay locked in the cellar until his system was cleansed from the human blood he had ingested, a necessary part of vampire rehab he had, unfortunately, gotten used to as a repercussion of the many times he slipped up throughout his one hundred and forty-five years as a vampire. No persuasion was needed. Barely sparing them a glance or even a word, the broody vampire descended the stairs and sat in the corner of his cell, all the while disregarding Damon's vow that they'd find Snow and bring her home as he locked him in and joined the distraught group upstairs.

Unfortunately, due to the inexplicable, but more importantly, _supernatural_ means of Snow's disappearance, the council couldn't be informed; however, despite his current loathing of the man, Logan sent a quick text to John regarding Snow, merely claiming she had gone missing as, while the man had an uncanny sense of knowledge, Logan didn't trust him with Snow's secrets or her safety.

Ordering Elena and Bonnie to stay indoors while he and Damon searched the town for Snow was easier said than done. Too consumed with guilt, realizing she had allowed her hatred and anger to cloud her judgment when she should have simply left Stefan to the two vampires, Bonnie insisted on assisting them.

"I forgot how obstinate you girls can be," Logan huffed to himself. He then proceeded to roughly drag his palms over his face, trying to rein his explosive temper in – Elena and Bonnie didn't deserve his wrath, they were simply good friends concerned over his goddaughter and he couldn't ask for better friends than them. In a voice of forced calm, he met the duo's identical stares of indignation, "Snow could be _anywhere_! She could be in a different continent for _crying out loud_! We don't know what condition she's in, or who stumbled upon her-" feeling tears clog his throat, Logan choked out a sob and turned his back on the alarmed and empathetic girls, devoid of words as the reality of the situation hit him with the force of a bullet.

In a rare bout of sympathy toward his current bane, Damon stepped in, expression solemn and his tone brooking no argument, "Logan and I'll be able to cover more ground without you two slowing us down." Blunt and to the point, he didn't bother sugarcoating his words. Immune to the twin glares of affront his words elicited, he continued, "Elena how about you call Alaric, fill him in, better we have another set of eyes. Witchy, try cooking up a spell that'd narrow down a location. Just in case." Clapping his hands together, everything about him oozed sarcasm, "There, all better now? You've made yourselves useful."

"You're an _ass_!" Elena hissed at Damon's retreating back, arms crossed and glare mutinous.

Rolling his eyes at Damon's behavior and the height of his idiocy for being antagonistic to a Bennett witch that was _already _pissed at him, Logan grabbed his phone and before heading out, spared the girls with another minute of his time, hazel eyes imploring and tone desperate, "Look, for the sake of my peace of mind, avoid the cellar, we don't know if Stefan'll try to manipulate his way out and… _please_, _for the love of God_, stay inside."

If possible, Bonnie's guilt surged and she inwardly beat herself up for lumping Logan in the 'all vampires are evil and deserve to die' category. He obviously cared about Snow and Elena… even _her_, despite her standoffish behavior. Once the vampires departed, Bonnie immediately pulled out Emily's grimoire from her bag – toting it around was a recently ingrained habit after Elena informed her of the tomb vampires escape – and started perusing through it for variants of location spells.

Hesitantly, after a long spell of awkward silence, she inquired, "What was that? How'd Snow just…_disappear_?"

Lips pursed and eyes fierce, Elena stared at Bonnie, almost as though she were contemplating her trustworthiness, which only served as another blow to the gut. Finally, she cleared her throat and coldly disclosed the events that occurred in her absence when Frederick, a vindictive tomb vampire, kidnapped Stefan in revenge and of how, in the end, the collective emotions were too much for Snow and in her fear for Stefan's life, unintentionally killed Frederick through disintegration, which had her falling into a coma. Once done, Elena didn't give Bonnie a chance to collect her thoughts or form a response; she abandoned the sitting room and ascended the stairs, ducking into Stefan's room to call Alaric.

Hours after sunrise, Logan and Damon returned. Elena and Bonnie, both of whom had been dozing in and out of consciousness, instantly straightened at their appearance, hope vivid on their expressions.

"Where's Snow?" they demanded in unison. Crestfallen, they nevertheless continued to peer around the two concerned vampires' forms as though hoping their best friend was hiding behind them or would jump out from the other room and yell out '_Surprise!_' complete with jazz fingers.

Shaking his head, Damon made a beeline to his bar and poured a drink for him and Logan. "We didn't leave anything unchecked, every single crevice in Mystic Falls we looked. We even scoured Grove Hill. Nothing, _nada_!"

Accepting the drink, after imbibing half of it, the doorbell rang and Logan's eyes lit up with renewed hope, "Luckily, I brought reinforcements."

A frown on her lovely face, Elena voiced out, "_Reinforcements_?" while she blinked from Damon to Bonnie, completely perplexed. He looked just as confused. However, a menacing snarl ripped through his lips as his enhanced hearing discerned the visitor before she managed to step into the sitting room where he stood congregated with the doppelgänger and witch. "_You_!" he sneered, his eyes fierce and malefic on the curvaceous, _extremely_ judgmental witch with gleaming emerald eyes and an irritating smirk. "I can easily _dis_invite you, Hilda. You're not welcome here in _my_ house."

"_Damon_!" The sharp rebuke prompted Damon's glare of death to rotate and subsequently fixate on Logan. "How about we stow away the hostilities for today, okay? We _need _her."

The muscles on the Salvatore vampire's jaw twisted, "No. We _really_ don't. We have Bon Bon-" he emphasized his statement by throwing a hand at her general direction, "-and frankly, one judgy witch that hates me under one roof is more than enough, thank you."

Deciding to conclude her strike of silence, Bonnie, a vicious frown on her face, took a step forward. Her hazel-green eyes were calculating as they devoured Elena, Logan and Damon, realizing she was the only person in the dark regarding the gorgeous newcomer, "Wait, who is this?"

Ruby lips spread into a benign smile and her emeralds danced as, mirroring Bonnie, she took a step toward her, "My name's Danica Claire, I'm—"

"She's the witch Mr. Silverstone hired to _spy_ on Snow," Elena interposed belligerently, her usually kind orbs narrowed in anger. Ignoring Logan's chastising '_Elena!_' and Bonnie's simultaneous '_what?_' of shock, the brunette shrugged and met Logan's disappointed stare with a blazing pair of stubborn ones. "_What_? Sugarcoat it all you like, but in the end, she _is_ a spy and she _is_ here because of Mr. Silverstone. One plus one equals two, Logan," she declared matter-of-factly. Pointing at Damon, Elena firmly said, "I'm with Damon. We don't need her. We have Bonnie."

Exhibiting the patience of a saint, Danica's smile never wavered, "Yes, but—"

Interrupted again, Bonnie whirled around to glare at Elena, "What the _hell_, Elena! Why am I _just_ hearing about this?"

"_Mee-oww_! Cat fight," Damon stage-whispered, earning himself a glare from Logan and an expression of unadulterated revulsion from Danica.

"_WE TRIED, BONNIE_!" Elena shouted, her chest heaving as she inhaled and exhaled roughly, the dam containing her anger and worries broken and the maelstrom of emotions stuffed inside the metaphorical barrier spilling out without restraint. "What did you think all those ignored phone and video calls were about? Snow and I called you _every day_, and you've been screening our attempts. Snow was in a coma. For _two weeks_. And I know for a fact Caroline told you because you've apparently been taking _her_ calls. And I get it, _okay_, I _get it_-" she pressed both palms against her chest to emphasize her point, "-you're mad about what happened to your Grams, and you wanted a break from all the crazy, but I _needed you_, I couldn't tell Caroline about the real reason Snow fell into a coma, I _needed you_. And you _weren't there_." Shaking her head, Elena viciously blew a puff of breath and roughly tucked an errant strand behind her ear, "All this time, we thought you were healing, but instead, you've been bottling up so much rage, hoarding anger and resentment and bitterness and hatred. At the _wrong people_! You're angry at Damon, that's understandable-"

Everyone ignored the noise of offended protest Damon made.

Furthermore, too absorbed in the ensuing dissent between the best friends, nobody noticed when an awkward Alaric hesitantly walked in and joined them in the room, approaching Damon's side with a box of weapons in hand.

"-You're angry at Stefan? Why, 'cause he ran into the tomb to help me. _Fine_! You resent me because I'm dating Stefan, _fine_, I can deal with that. But what I _cannot_ deal with, is the unreasonable anger you've been holding onto at Snow. _Why_? 'Cause her godfather's a vampire? Logan played absolutely no role in the opening of the tomb. Neither did Snow. The entire time, Snow's been healing from that psycho that almost killed her. She's been with Caroline and the Lockwoods the whole time, and Logan's been looking after her. You want to freeze me out, I can deal with it. I'm emotionally capable of accepting that. But Snow isn't. And you _know that_. You _broke_ Snow's heart. Snow, who is kind and gentle, and has so much love and compassion for everyone-, she accidentally killed Frederick and she _cried_ over him. _That's_ how pure and sweet she is." Logan placed a calming hand on Elena's shoulder, prompting her to slow down and conclude her furious rant, "So tell me, Bonnie, when was I supposed to clue you in on _everything_ that's been happening. Would you have cared? I mean, you didn't even bother to check in on Snow when she woke up from her coma. And since you've been back, the only thing you _did _do, was give her the cold shoulder."

Rendered speechless, throughout the entirety of Elena's broadside against her, Bonnie stood rooted to her spot, frozen with guilt and self-denigration as silent tears streamed down her face, her lower lip quivering.

A long stretch of silence percolated through the room, and just when it seemed like the silence was endless, two occurrences simultaneously took place; Logan softly rubbed Bonnie's back in a comforting gesture, sending a jolt of surprise and a frisson of guilt down her spine at how she unfairly treated the vampire, and Danica spoke up, a hint of attitude seeping into her tone, "Look, we don't have _time_ for teen drama. The longer we stick here arguing like a couple of _children_, the longer Snow is out there, alone and frightened."

Elena, Bonnie and Damon glared at the older witch.

Unruffled, Danica calmly met the storm brewing behind the pair of hazel-green eyes, "In time, Bonnie, you have the potential to become a _better_ witch than your grandmother. But the truth is, right now, at _this_ moment, you're still young, you're a novice. A _beginner_. Logan was smart to call me. I don't want to make enemies out of either one of you-"

Damon scoffed, "Oh, _trust me_, that ship has sailed, witchy."

Emerald irises pinned Damon as they glowed with power, and while she addressed Bonnie, her glare remained fixated on him, "I'm here to do_ one thing_ and _one thing only_. Protect Snow. I hope you stop standing in my way long enough to see reason-"

And for the nth time, Danica was cut off.

"_No_," Bonnie stated firmly.

Eyebrows arched and then snapped together in surprise. Detaching her glare from the pair of cocky electric blue eyes, Danica blinked at the teenage witch, "Excuse me?"

"I said _no_," Bonnie repeated, confidence coursing through her as she took the required steps needed to close the distance between herself and Danica. "Snow is _my_ friend. _My sister_. She's not a _job_," she hissed, feeling slightly possessive. Her eyes resembled daggers and her tongue was sharp and laced in poison. "I may not be as _experienced_ as you, but Snow is _my friend_. That's all I need to fuel my magic. Like Damon already told you, we don't need you, and as long as I'm around, we _never will_."

The hard lines on Elena's face softened at Bonnie's staunch defense of Snow and, in a show of support, looped her arm through the younger witch's. The small smile Elena gave her was a mute translation that she was forgiven. Damon on the other hand, placed a hand against his chest, "I'm touched—"

Not missing a beat, Bonnie hissed, "I _still_ hate you."

A calming hand on Danica's shoulder, before Logan could do damage control and call for order, the bell rang for the second time that morning. A groan left Damon's lips, followed by a snarl from Logan as John Gilbert arrogantly strode in the room. "What are you doing here?" Elena demanded furiously, a fist clenched, not bothering to mask the disdain she felt toward her uncle, despite Snow's previous words about giving him a chance. She couldn't believe an ounce of love existed in John Gilbert's cocky existence.

"This isn't the time, John!" Logan snarled.

Blinking, Damon stared at Alaric in genuine surprise, "Van Helsing, when did you get here?"

"_Seriously_!?" he huffed, glaring once he realized the only person whose face didn't portray surprise in regards to his appearance was John. Damon shrugged, unabashedly unapologetic. In contrast, Elena shot him a sheepish smile and awkwardly scratched the nape of her neck.

John however, had eyes for only one person: Logan. "Look, contrary to my attitude since I came back to town, and the…_things_ I said, I'm here to help," John stated, intense sapphire eyes flickering between Logan and Elena. "You want to find Snow? I already narrowed down her location," he revealed, his countenance and posture lacking the usual arrogance.

"How?" Logan urged, his hazel orbs equally intense. At his improbable accommodating behavior, Damon cut in, "Oh, _come on_, Fell. You believe this guy?"

Firmly flinging a hand in the air, Logan emitted a growl, "I don't care about the petty issues all of you seem to have with each other. For _fuck's sakes_! You killed me, Damon! I cannot stand you, and yet, I've managed to bury the hatchet so that we can work together! Can't you all just, _pretend_ to tolerate each other long enough to find Snow? Once we have her with us, safe and sound, _then_ you can go back to fighting amongst yourselves, _okay_?" Glare redirected to John, he demanded, "Tell me! _Where_ is my goddaughter!?"

Inwardly impressed by the amount of maturity and fierce dedication displayed by the newly turned vampire, John maintained eye contact with the pair of dangerous hazel eyes of his old friend while he slipped a hand into the front pocket of his jeans, withdrawing his phone. Rooting through the gallery, he stopped on a picture he received mere minutes ago, "This look familiar to any of you?"

Gasps permeated the air at the substantial proof that stared back at them. Pushing past everyone, Elena's hand circled Logan's wrist in a bruising grip, her wide chocolate eyes fixated on the bright screen, "_That's_-, that's one of the Louboutin heels Snow wore in the pageant." Lifting to meet her uncle's intense sapphire stare, Elena stuttered, "_H-How_, wh-where, how did you come by this?"

"I have contacts all around," he disclosed vaguely, re-pocketing his phone. "The second Logan informed me Snow was missing, I put out feelers all around. _Discretely_, of course," he added with narrowed eyes. "Of course, I wrongly believed she'd be somewhere in Mystic Falls. Maybe even Richmond. _Not_ Manning, Colorado. Care to share with the class _how exactly_ Snow Silverstone managed such a feat?" Receiving nothing but silence, his jaw turned rigid, "Seriously? Fine. I'll tell you. Some magical bright light, am I warmer?"

A recurrence of recent events, Logan had John against the wall, both hands fisted in his collar, "_Where_ are you getting your information from, John!?"

His expression menacing, Damon staunchly took Logan's side, "I'd answer the vampire, Gilbert. Logan here takes the whole Papa-Bear routine _very_ seriously."

The smugness returned tenfold. Lips quirked in a smirk, John looked wholly unperturbed at having two irate vampires caging him in. "Like I mentioned, I have contacts _everywhere_. How do I know Snow's location? Katherine's?" He sneered at Alaric, "_Isobel's_." Glowering, Alaric joined the fray, comfortably standing side-by-side with the murderous vampires as they proceeded to box him in. An arrogant bark of laughter emanated from him. "How do I know the compass to Snow's whereabouts is right here, under your nose?" this time, intense sapphires burned into Bonnie's hazel-greens.

"_Me_?" Bonnie looked taken aback by his bluntness.

"_Her_?" Damon blurted out in mounting confusion, thumb pointed at her, his expression identical to Elena and Alaric's.

Lowering his gaze, John pointedly glared at the hands buried in his collar, an eyebrow up, "You planning on letting go anytime soon, Logan." Growling, Logan did as asked, releasing him roughly. Fixing his shirt, John huffed, "You want answers. Fine, I'll be generous with you. For starters, _I'm_ not the enemy here. I have eyes everywhere. Don't you think it was pretty suspicious I got into town after Snow's coma—"

"Because Aunt Jenna was thinking about selling Dad's office," Elena cut in, confused.

He inclined his head, "Partly. But I was already making my way back when a… contact informed me of the trouble you got yourself into with the tomb vampires. And of how Snow killed one. Empath, huh?" he scoffed, sarcasm high. "Lemme tell you something, whatever Snow Silverstone is, I assure you, she's no empath. An empath has _passive_ powers."

An eerie silence encompassed the room. Sans John, every single occupant looked around in surmounting confusion. Then, one by one, all eyes fell on Danica. An annoyed sound rumbled from her and she threw her hands in the air in an aggressive-defensive gesture, "Right, I should've seen this coming. Blame the new girl. _Classy_."

Eyes narrowed, Damon parted his lips, fully intent on verbally ripping her a new one. Unfortunately, Logan cut in. As Danica's only friend and the only one able to tolerate her presence, Logan felt it would be better coming from him, "Dani… Damon, Stefan, Elena, Bonnie and I are the _only ones_ who know about Snow's empath abilities. I didn't even tell Sophie."

"Let me stop you right there, Logan," Danica huffed, a hand out and glare piercing the irritatingly smug John. "I report back to the Regent. After the infighting 'cause of Soph, Josephine ordered me to report anything pertinent back to _her_, not the Elders. I didn't even know about Snow's empath powers until _after_ she fell into a coma." Then, like a switch had been flicked, the angry moue of her lips spread into a cocky smirk matching John's, her mocking gaze fixated on him, "_However_, the Regent and Sophie are the only one that _deal_ with a specific person, _if_ you get my gist."

The dots laid out before him connected at a furious pace, Logan whipped round to glare at John _again_, his jugular veins protruding. "You _son of a bitch_! Are you in contact with Stanley!?" John simply stared back, unblinking, unruffled and as apathetic as ever. "You _are_, _aren't you_?"

Stunned, Damon reflexively quipped, "Now that's a shocking plot-twist."

"What _else_ are you hiding, John?" Elena demanded, indignant that all this time, everyone mourned the man, _including her!_, when _her own uncle_ has been in cahoots with him, watching Snow mourn him and cry over him and attend his funeral and remain in a constant state of depression for _years_! "How could you do this to Snow?!" she shrieked, her body shaking with anger. Bonnie wound an arm around her, equally angry.

Pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, John lifted his head, achieving eye contact with the ceiling. "You'd be surprised by the kind of knowledge I've managed to gather in the years I've been gone, Elena. I know plenty. I'm not the enemy here, and I know, I know, Elena-" finally, he meet her hostile glare with intense eyes and a bitter smile, "-you want nothing more than to see me as your enemy, as someone infiltrating your life and threatening your friends. Am I right? But that's far from the truth. I could've easily exposed to the Council that they had three vampires living right underneath their nose. But I didn't. I came back to _protect you_, to protect my family from the tomb vampires. That's it."

_Lie_. Owing to an entire childhood of friendship, Logan was slightly adroit at reading John. "That's only half the truth," he pointed out, hazels hard with certainty. "There's still _a lot_ you're not telling us."

"Of course there is. Trust me, Logan," John's smirk turned sardonic. "This is _way_ above your pay grade."

Forcing himself into the conversation before the ex-friends' argument could intensity, Damon snapped, "You said protect _family_. Last I checked, Snow isn't a Gilbert. Why've you been keeping an eye on her?"

Smirk still sardonic, sapphires flew across the room and seared the pair of resigned hazels belonging to his past friend, "You want to answer that one buddy?" Instead of offering some kind of response, Logan abruptly looked away, turmoil evident in his averted eyes as they bore a hole into the adjacent wall. "No?" John chuckled, "Allow me. Snow _is_, _in fact_, _family_. By marriage, she's my second cousin. Which would make you, Elena, her third cousin."

"_What_?" Elena gasped. John and Logan were the only occupants in the room unaffected by the news. Desperate, Elena sought out his gaze, "Logan, is this, _is this true_?" Slowly, looking like it physically hurt to confirm the truth, Logan dipped his head. The anger roiling inside her started to fester, building up into a typhoon-like rage. Fists clenched to her sides, Elena snapped, "Why didn't you tell me? Tell _Snow_? Why keep it a secret from us?!"

Throwing John a look of utter loathing, Logan snarled through gritted teeth, "I did it in respect to Selene's last wishes. She _didn't want_ Snow to know." Inhaling and exhaling violently, Logan captured the chocolate brown orbs that welled with angry tears, "When Selene was eighteen she came across a nest of vampires. She was so, so free-spirited, a trait that stuck with her 'til her dying breath, and she didn't… she had no interest in grooming herself to become the next perfect socialite, forced to attend tea parties and formal dances with the other social climbers. Selene never cared for propriety. She wanted to be a hunter, like the patriarchal side of her family. She wanted her life to _have meaning_. But at the same time, her heart was _so pure_, much like Snow, she'd kill _within reason_… she only hunted the scourge of monsters. But she met her match with that nest. Then, out of nowhere, a vampire saved her, ruthlessly took out her own kind to save a mortal. Her name was-"

"Lexi," recognition colored Elena's features, recalling the abridged version Lexi informed Snow before Damon killed her. Said vampire shifted uncomfortably and subtly molded into the background and away from the limelight, for once choosing to be smart and keep his mouth shut.

Logan smiled sadly, having heard of her death from Stefan. "Yes. Lexi saved Selene and a bond grew between them. They kept in touch and would occasionally go on road trips together, even after she settled down with Stanley." The fondness seeped out of his eyes and his smile became grimly tight, "But before that, John and your father, Gray, they found out. They couldn't accept Selene's unorthodox views. Not one to be bullied or to change her beliefs to fit others, Selene fought back. Because of Selene's friendship with Miranda, with your mother, Gray grudgingly backed off, but John-" he glared at the man, who simply rolled his eyes in response, "-he gave her an ultimatum. Since then, Selene cut all ties with John and when she gave birth to Snow, she made me promise, Elena. She preferred that Snow stayed in the dark as she feared your father and John would force her to be a killer."

Scoffing, John tucked both hands in his front pockets, "You're all being dramatic. This happened nearly two decades ago."

The tension escalated, and thankfully, Bonnie intervened, "Look, let's just… let's just find Snow, okay? I found two spells in Emily's grimoire. The first one requires the blood of a relative. Since we're short on those, it's useless. Especially since Mr. Silverstone's whereabouts are a mystery." Another pulse of discomfort swept around the congregation as John and Danica found themselves on the receiving end of pointed glares. "The second spell _is_ possible. I'll need an object that belongs to Snow and a strand of her hair. A few drops of my blood and I'll be able to pinpoint _where_ in Manning Snow is."

In the blink of an eye, Logan vanished from their presence, taking advantage of his enhanced speed to travel the distance to his house and back with the required ingredients.

"I still think its best I perform the spell. I've done it countless of times before," Danica sighed, rubbing her forehead with the ridge of her palm. Receiving looks of disbelief from Damon and Elena, and a glare that screamed '_fuck off!_' from the teenage witch, a crease appeared between her dark brows, "You insist on making me out as your enemy. What will it take to put it through your thick skulls that I'm here to _help_?"

Returning just in time to hear the frustrated peroration of her speech, toting Snow's hairbrush and a silver locket, inside of which was a miniature picture of her parents – a sentimental and greatly treasured piece of jewelry the violet-eyed girl _never took off_, but presently couldn't bring herself to wear once the revelation of Stanley Silverstone's faked death came out in the open – Logan flashed the witch a charming smile, "You know _I _trust you, Dani. I'm just grossly overruled here."

A scoff and a smirk, both of which reeked of scorn, John cut into what looked like the beginning of a bout of witty banter, "If it's all the same to you, I'd rather trust Bennett magic. If I'm gonna bank on magic to keep Snow safe, I'd go with the one most reputable."

Surprised and strangely flattered, Bonnie bit back a smile. Giving in to the immature child inside of her, the teenage witch threw Danica a smug smirk. Danica however, sauntered toward John, hips swaying emeralds glittering and smile bright. "Only because you have yet to see the wonders of Claire magic. _I _can give you a crash course if you're interested," she purred, the innuendo not lost on anyone; it was like a knife to Elena's ears, stark disgust coloring her features.

"_Don't flirt with him_!" Elena and Logan intoned in unadulterated horror before John had a chance to recover from his blinking fit and offer a response. Hands overhead in the universal gesture for surrender, Danica smirked sinfully.

Ignoring the drama unfolding around her, Bonnie pricked her finger under the watchful eye of Alaric and Damon. The sound of each crimson droplet against the metal bowl echoed loudly in the room's sudden state of quietude. "_Phasmatos Tribum Nas Ex Veras_," upon the third repeat of the invocation, Bonnie felt like her body was attempting to be in two places at once. The moment her eyes slipped shut, a wisp drifted from her body until it took the form of an apparition of herself.

A gasp unwittingly emanated from her lips when her hazel-green orbs flew open to Snow's unconscious form. She looked peaceful, like a reincarnation of Princess Aurora from 'Sleeping Beauty'; her feet were bare, her body untouched, still covered in the blush-colored dress from the pageant and her sleeping figure was stretched on a grand bed, her hands folded atop each other on her stomach. But she wasn't alone… An incredibly handsome man with pale skin, who looked the epitome of a bad boy with his neck-length dark hair and mesmerizing dark eyes, sharp features and hard jaw, a leather jacket and black jeans donning his lean, musculature form, reclined on the bed beside her, the back of his fingers stroking her cheek in a reverential manner.

Disturbed by the sight and enraged that some stranger was taking advantage of her best friend in her vulnerable state, Bonnie frantically perused the area in search for some form of clue. _Any clue_. Grudgingly stepping out of the room, Bonnie's jaw dropped and her eyes threatened to bulge out in horror and fear and _disgust _at the congregation of men and women, most of whom were lewdly jeering at the hoard of people locked in cages like animals. Propelled by some magnetic force, tearful hazel-greens dropped to the ground where a dead body had been thrown unceremoniously, a pool of congealed blood underneath, the body so mangled its gender was undistinguishable.

Tears fell like rivulets, their pace rapid, and she quickened her search, wanting to get out of this horrid place. She committed to memory the dusty and dingy interior of the hovel and ran outside to examine its exterior just as one of the men made a statement about visiting Hob's Pub nearby for '_dessert_'.

A relieved breath forced its way from her quivering lips – _she had what she needed!_

"Bonnie?" Elena's tentative voice echoed around her, sounding like she was calling her name from the end of a tunnel.

With a loud gasp, the vision melted into nothing and Bonnie returned to her physical form, her wide hazel-green orbs flickering between each and every one of them in surmounting fear. Unwilling to waste another second, Bonnie grabbed the grimoire and Snow's belongings, "We have to go. _Now_! Snow's in danger. There were people locked in cages, and a dead body on the ground, s-s-so _mangled_ I don't even know if it was a girl or-or boy, and-and—" Bonnie burst into tears, her body shaking madly at the horrors she bore witness to, "And Snow's unconscious on a bed, and some _freak_ is laying beside her, stroking her face and-and, Logan we need to get her out _now_!"

Stiff and still, Logan looked like he had been carved out of stone and there was a dangerous twitch in his jaw. Damon, Alaric and John looked absolutely enraged, the latter's hand twitching as though itching to reach out for a weapon. Danica gasped aloud, a hand pressed to her chest while Elena dissolved into floods of tears, fear gripping her heart. Bonnie however, was possessed by a deep sense of determination. Her eyes hard, she stated, "She's in some old barn next to this pub, Hob's Pub."

"I know where it is," Damon sounded apathetic, but everyone knew better. The rigidness of his jaw and the fierceness in his eyes spoke a different story. He looked like a predator ready to instigate a slaughter. Snatching his car keys, Damon joined Logan by the foyer, "The trip's gonna take a little over a day, but with Logan and my reflexes, we can make it there, ten, _fifteen_ hours maximum."

Pushing past Danica, Bonnie stood her ground next to Logan, and when he looked like he were about to contest to her inclusion, her eyes hardened, "I'm _coming_. And before any of you fight me on this, don't forget that you _need me_. What if they change locations? What if you get lost? I can do the spell." His lips still parted in refusal and his posture combative, she slashed her hand across the air, the Bennett stubbornness plain on her features, "And don't use Danica as an excuse! Snow is _my friend_. Like _hell_ am I going to stay behind. You need a witch. _I'm_ that witch. I've been practicing. I'm not about to lose another loved one, you hear me? You fight me on this, I'll just follow in my car."

Damon sighed, "Trust me on this, Logan. I've dealt with stubborn Bennetts. If she's anything like Emily, she's not all bark no bite." Vehemently taken aback by his defense, Bonnie gaped unattractively at the vampire she held personally responsible for her Grams' death. Realizing getting on their bad side wouldn't be conducive in the long-run to keeping Snow protected from the many dangers yet to come, Danica articulated a white lie, "Besides, Gunny. I can't leave Davina. I don't have a sitter."

Weakly, Logan said, "What about Rudy?"

"Right," Bonnie muttered darkly, the disbelief evident on her face masking her hurt. "My _Dad_? …_You serious_? He barely made it to Grams' funeral. As you remember, he came fashionably late." She rolled her eyes, a moue of distaste present on her face. "Then, he stayed a day with me. _One day_. Before he left town for business. He isn't even _in_ town, and even if he was, he wouldn't notice my absence or _care_."

John, Logan and Alaric fidgeted uncomfortably and in harmony, averted their gaze, the ceiling, wall and flooring much more interesting than the hurt teenager in front of them.

Broadcasting his foot-in-mouth syndrome, Damon chuckled, not bothering to keep his voice down, "This town's got major daddy issues." To which he received the evil eye from John. Although, surprisingly, Danica found his comment amusing and she hastened to morph her laugh into a cough.

Elena decided to stay behind and take care of Stefan, and John wasn't about to leave Jenna and Jeremy alone and unprotected while the tomb vampires were out and about, especially since he had arranged a meeting for the afternoon with Pearl regarding the Gilbert Device.

However, just as Logan, Damon, Alaric and Bonnie were geared up and ready to leave, John stopped them, grim recognition on his features, "There's something you need to know. What you're about to walk into, you need to be equipped with crucial knowledge. You're gonna be facing a vampire nest but… they're a different kind-" he immediately raised a firm hand, halting the predictable interjection coming from Damon, "-and yes, I'm dead serious. Wooden stakes, vervain, sunlight – they don't work on them. Decapitation is your best and only bet. So substitute those stakes with blades. Also, blood of the deceased, commonly known as dead man's blood, is _their_ vervain—"

Five minutes later, two vampires, one vampire hunter and a teenage witch, the four most unlikely allies, stepped into Damon's car and hit the road.

* * *

The plan was foolproof. But in the end, the Winchesters were outsmarted by a bunch of vampires and their plan was foiled. In order to draw out the nest's leader, they used dead man's blood to capture his mate, the initial plan being to parley Kate for the Colt.

A day of meticulous plotting and scheming, and they failed.

In retrospect, John could admit to himself it was his fault they failed. Stubbornness was a Winchester trait, and John inherited it in spades. He excluded his boys from the final game plan and after asking nicely failed to get through to them, he utilized his authoritative Marine voice that demanded obedience and ordered them to leave as he couldn't bear having their lives at risk. Hunters they may be, but he was first and foremost a father. Bone-deep, he knew the Winchesters were stronger as a united front… as a _family_; and yet, he adamantly persisted on excluding his sons, alienating his boys and pushing them away with his infallible gruff exterior, purposely keeping them at arm's length to keep them safe.

_Rather he died than them_ – that was John's mantra, one he would never forsake.

So concentrated was John on keeping the nest leader's mate close, he failed to take note of the vampire approaching him from behind until it was too late. Swinging his machete with a prowess that spoke of years of experience, he effortlessly decapitated the son of a bitch. Unfortunately, he made the rookie mistake of leaving his back wide open and Kate knocked him unconscious, which brought him to his current location, within the vampires' nest.

Deciding to take advantage of the opportunity before him, John stealthily snuck through the nest in search for the Colt. Just as he made to open a door, a cocky voice permeated from behind, "You won't find what you're looking for in there."

Glaring at the leather-clad leader of the nest, John gruffly uttered in what he hoped was an appeasing manner, "Look, I just want the Colt. Elkins' gun. You give me the gun and I'll make sure other hunters leave you alone."

Luther initiated an intense stare-off with him, his eyes calculating, before sidestepping him with the intention of entering the exact room John had been about to open. "You injected my Kate with dead man's blood, you son of a bitch! Why would I negotiate with you? The _only_ reason you're still breathing is because _I know_ your sons are still around, and you're the perfect bait to dangle over their heads," he smirked maliciously.

It was John's turn to snarl, "_You son of a bitch_!" However, any ensuing discord died halfway past John's throat once the vampire swung open the door and his butterscotch gaze landed on the bed where a dark-haired girl with skin as white as snow lay unconscious, making a breathtakingly beautiful and serene image. "What the-! _Why do you have her here_?! _What are doing to her_?" a vein throbbed painfully on his forehead, the vessel dangerously close to bursting as he tried and failed to conceal his fury. His stomach churned violently and he felt nauseous when Luther adoringly stroked her face.

"She's a beauty, isn't she, hunter?" Luther hummed absentmindedly, no longer resembling a dangerous blood-sucking predator as he fell into a trance, dilated eyes unwavering from her sleeping visage. "This mortal confounds us all. She has absolutely no scent. _Nothing_. I still don't know what to do with her. Kate found her in the middle of nowhere, unconscious. Fifteen hours elapsed and yet, she remains stuck in the throes of unconsciousness."

"Let her go!" John snarled, his hand instinctively reaching to where his weapons were supposed to be, and when it met emptiness, he recalled the vampires confiscated them and emitted a hissed curse. In response, Luther mockingly laughed, "Now why on earth would I do that-"

A cacophony of agonized screams echoed from the interior and exterior of his nest, cutting him off.

* * *

Damon slammed his foot on the brakes and, not sparing a split-second, the four unlikely allies jumped out of the car and into the fray.

Two tall, well-built men, one with dark blonde hair and sparkling green eyes and the other with shaggy brown hair and wide brown eyes, were swinging machetes in a synchronized dance, almost like it were choreographed beforehand. And if either one of them had been holding onto any doubts regarding John Gilbert's parting revelation of there being a different species of vampires, it was tossed out the metaphorical window at the sight of decapitated heads soaring in the air and headless bodies decorating the ground, courtesy of the two feral-looking, machete-swinging strangers.

No sooner had the quartet joined the bloody skirmish, did a vampire with a full set of repulsive fangs make the mistake of charging at Bonnie, wrongfully considering her the weakest link. Within a hairsbreadth from the witch, Logan promptly intervened; he fluidly flung an arm out, and using his bare hand as a weapon, effortlessly decapitated the vampire, the deed as easy as slicing through butter with a cleaver. A female vampire emitted an anguished yell at the death of her mate and went to attack Logan. However this time, Bonnie intervened, crippling the she-vampire with a pain-inflection spell, which gave Logan ample time to separate her head from her shoulders like he did her mate.

"Damon, Alaric, you two head inside, Bonnie and I'll catch up," Logan yelled, crimson-coated hazel eyes not detaching from the swarm of vampires. Recognizing their hesitation from his peripheral, he snarled, "_Hurry_!" Grudgingly complying with Logan's demand, the vampire and vampire hunter barged into the barn, a few steps behind the machete-packing men.

Suspicion palpable on his features, Sam blatantly eyeballed the duo. On the other hand, Dean reflexively swung his machete at Alaric's head, only to be caught off-guard by Damon, who, with uncanny speed, grabbed the hilt and knocked him back with a kick to his shin. "The guy's human, _you dick_!" Damon spat out, "And while I'm not, I'm not the enemy here. So how about you keep your weapons to yourself and stay out of our way, Jack Crow."

"_What the hell_!" Dean retorted, shaking off the guilt of nearly killing a human to trade a baffled glance with Sam, who merely shrugged and ran into the barn after the human and nonhuman.

At that moment, Kate and the female victim from earlier appeared, flanking Luther, obsequiously prepared to protect him from the four newcomers. John was torn between relief and irritation at the sight of his sons. Damon and Alaric on the other hand, donned downright murderous expressions at the scene before them: beyond the threshold of the barely furnished room the three quasi-vampires were blocking the entrance to, was Snow, unconscious and just as Bonnie claimed, on a grand bed that took up most of the space in the room.

Masking his apoplectic rage with flippancy, Damon allowed his trademark smirk to grace his features and smarmily prefaced, "Look, Spike, or whoever the hell you are. We don't want any problems-" at the typical Damon Salvatore behavior, Alaric rolled his eyes and promptly elbowed him, throwing him a meaningful glare that said '_get on with it_', "-All we want is the girl you've got hoarded inside."

Intrigued, Luther arched an eyebrow, dark eyes gleaming from Damon to Alaric, "And _why_ should I hand her over?"

A scream of excruciating agony resonated into the barn from outside, eliciting simultaneous flinches from the two females and for the male's jaw to become taut. Damon's face was at risk of splitting in half as his trademark smirk grew smugger, "_Because_ unless you don't fancy suffering like your little minions out there, you'll do the right thing and hand her over. Trust me, you haven't got a snowball's chance in hell of making it out of here as anything _but_ a dismembered corpse. Although, I gotta say, as a fellow vampire rocking the leather look, it'll be a real pity to see you go—"

"_Damon_! Shut. _Up_!" Alaric hissed, the elbow to his side digging deeper than before.

Taking advantage of their little rumpus, Luther grabbed Sam, who had been subtly inching closer to a perplexed John's side, subsequently locking him in a chokehold and threatening to rip his head off. Face fierce, Dean grabbed his machete, ready to make a lunge.

"_Don't_! I'll break his neck. Put the blade _down_," Luther warned ominously, his eyes glinting ferociously. For a stubborn beat, Dean didn't comply, green eyes fearfully taking in the vulnerable position his brother managed to land himself in, which prompted Luther to retaliate by tightening his hold, completely cutting off Sam's air supply. Left with no choice, a defeated Dean obediently dropped the machete. Luther glared at the Winchesters, "You people. Why can't you leave us alone-" Cue another scream of agony from outside. "We have as much right to live as you do."

Truly, Alaric lost count of the number of times he had been forced to throw Damon a warning glance. But he did so, _again. _Unfortunately, Damon truly did have a lack of filter problem, one that he didn't doubt would get him killed, "Oh, _cry me a river_!" Utilizing the full potential of his enhanced speed, Damon, to the Winchesters, appeared as a blur, and he fluidly released Sam from Luther's grip. Before anyone could so much as blink, Damon ripped off his head. When John went to train the Colt at Luther, he was met with a headless vampire.

An ear-piercing scream of profound heartbreak emanated from Kate at the death of her mate. Glaring at Damon, she prepared to pounce, but before the other female could grab her, fully intending on fleeing for their lives, a pain-infliction spell engulfed her, signaling Bonnie's arrival, having left the two remaining vampires for Logan to dispatch. Propelled by instinct alone, Dean swung his machete at Kate and Damon promptly ripped off the unnamed female's head with his bare hand.

The Winchesters, flabbergasted by the ease the newcomers dispensed of the nest, turned to scrutinize the three unnamed intruders who wasted absolutely no time in huddling around the unconscious girl's side. "Snow? Snow, wake up!" Bonnie cried hysterically, softly prodding an unresponsive Snow. "Damon, is she-, she's not-"

"She's alive," relief broke through the cracks in Damon's rough tone. The real question was how _long_ Snow's going to remain unconscious. The last thing Mystic Falls needed was for the Silverstone Heiress to fall victim to _another_ coma so soon after she woke up from a two-week one. If this keeps up, suspicion would definitely arise and Snow might end up being in danger of having the secret of her anomalous powers uncovered. "Her heartbeat's strong. C'mon, let's go before Logan tears the place apart. Upsy Daisy," showcasing utmost ease, Damon lifted the unconscious girl in his arms, his eyes tender and hold gentle.

Letting them get away scot-free, and with Luther's unconscious human hostage, seemed off to Dean, the hunter inside him incapable of allowing nonhumans to walk free. That cocky blue-eyed dude moved almost as fast as the speed of light, him and his buddy that remained outside fighting off the dredges of the nest, easily ripped off heads with their bare hands; the innocent looking girl with the wide greenish eyes had a vampire drop in paralytic pain, screaming her head off with a mere look – and recalling that shed light on _who_ exactly elicited the plethora of anguished screams, which prompted an uneasy shiver to wrack his form.

"Now wait _just a minute_ here," Dean snarled, hand squeezing around the hilt of his machete. "You might be human-" he lazily flicked his machete, the nose pointing at Alaric, before his flinty eyes moved between the other two, "-you two are definitely _not_."

Irritated, Damon arched a brow and muttered to himself, "_Oh brother_."

All of a sudden, in a move wholly unexpected by either of his sons, John blatantly turned his back on the strangers as though they weren't worth his time. "Let them pass, Dean," he demanded in a deep, gruff tone

"Wha-"

"_Don't_ argue with me!" John snapped angrily, "They're no danger to us. They're here for the girl, who might need medical attention. Delaying them could cost her her life. Leave them."

Grudgingly, Dean belligerently stepped aside so that their path to the door wasn't hindered, seething at the mocking smirk the guy carrying the unconscious girl tossed his way. Seeing Damon's predictable attempt to provoke him, Alaric once again elbowed him onward while Bonnie rolled her eyes at him and made a moue of distaste. She then, despite Dean's hostility and inclination to kill her, flashed him and Sam an apologetic smile before softly addressing John's back, "Thank you, sir." and rushed after her companions.

From inside the barn, wading in a sea of decapitated heads and headless bodies, the hunters watched as the third male gently snatched the unconscious girl and cradled her in his arms, placing a fond kiss on her forehead, the concern and utmost relief unmistakably displayed on his handsome features. They then climbed into a powder blue Chevy Camaro and drove off.

* * *

The ride to the motel was spent in stark silence. It continued to stretch until the family of three stepped into their rented room and the door clicked shut behind them. Quick as lightening, Dean rounded on his father, "What the hell was that about, Dad? Since _when_ do we allow monsters to roam free? _That's_ the exact opposite of _everything_ you've taught us!"

His patience almost depleted, John rose to his full height and squarely met his eldest's glare, "_Don't_ use that tone of voice with me, Dean! Whatever they are, _whoever_ they are, they came for the girl. Killing monsters aren't more important than saving innocents! Not always-"

"_Dean_!" Sam's face lost color and he trembled slightly, disrupting their fight. Too frustrated and confused by recent events and John's unexpected leniency, he failed to take note of Sam's unusual silence, frowns of deep contemplation lining his face. Dean was by Sam's side in an instant, a calming hand on his shoulder, "Sammy, what is it? What happened?"

Shoulders sagged and eyes wide, Sam stated in a hush, "It's her." Rooted in his spot across the room, John folded his arms, eyes still dark with remnant rage flickering between his sons in bewilderment as he endeavored to comprehend their monosyllabic exchange, a deep vee forming between his thick raven brows.

Dean, however, looked just as puzzled as his father, "Her? _Who_ her? You're not making any sense, Sammy."

But Sam appeared lost in an entirely different universe, like he weren't standing in the middle of a motel room with his father and brother. A fire had been lit underneath him, prompting the questions that have been burdening him for a week to spread out before his very eyes. "She looked familiar. That's _why_ I lost concentration and the nest leader managed to use me as leverage. I was busy staring at that girl. I don't know why, but she-, _Dean_, she looks _so_ _familiar_. And then, that, that cocky one who killed the leader mentioned a 'Logan' and the girl, she-she called him 'Damon', didn't-, didn't she?" Large brown eyes captured the jade green of Dean's, identical shards of fear glinting within, "_She's the one we've been looking for_! The girl kept hostage, she's the girl from my vision!"

"_Son of a bitch_!" Dean swore, his hand thrusting forward into the plastered wall. "You mean to tell me, after one week of searching endlessly for her and she was right _there_ under our noses and we _let her go_? We'll _never_ find her now!" he yelled. A flush of anger colored his features and the tautening of his jaw could've cut through glass.

Deeming it best to intervene, John took a large intimidating step forward, reminding his sons of his presence. Despite the miasma of emotions that consumed him, he found himself capable of demanding one thing and _one thing only_, "_What vision_?!"

* * *

_**CAST:**_

**Hugo Becker **_**as**_** Bastien ****Toussaint**

**Warren Christie **_**as**_** Luther**

* * *

"_**Oh. My. GOD! If I have to hear the evil stepsisters rave about Lucille forbidding me from attending the Founders Ball one. more. time! I'm gonna self-detonate. Seriously. And they keep calling me Ella and asking about my missing prince. I wish they could just go stuff themselves!**_**" **_**– **__**Snow Silverstone**_

"_**Snow, sweetie, I think the message will be sent loud and clear if you deliver it properly. Tell them to fuck themselves.**_**" **_**– **__**Caroline Forbes**_

"_**Oh, Richard. Here's your credit card. Logan and I went halves. I paid for the dress, he got the heels.**_**" **_**– **__**Carol Lockwood**_

"_**Still got nothing? Look, Sammy. You go grill Sarah for information. She's into you. Leave Violet Eyes to me. Now go. The quicker we solve this case, the sooner we find Dad.**_**" **_**– **__**Dean Winchester**_

"_**Look, Lena. I know this is going to sound crazy but… that day, when I, uh, at the woods, before that white light manifested, did you see something, anything?... 'Cause this is going to sound crazy but, I saw something. At first I thought it was my mother looking after me. But then… I saw him. He stood watch over me and, he was beautiful and… I think he was an angel, Elena.**_**" – **_**Snow Silverstone**_

"_**Can you believe the nerve of that, that bitch! She actually tried talking me out of having Snow in the pageant. I want that pitchfork and I want it now. I want to drive that hag out of my town!**_**" **_**– **__**Carol Lockwood**_

"_**Logan, have you spoken to Snow lately? She thinks an angel is watching over her… I literally couldn't give her any comment.**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert**_

"_**Your Mom, Selene was the star of the pageant. Nobody was surprised when she won Miss Mystic. What I'm trying to say is, Snow, if you don't win, your mother will still be proud of you. You don't need a title to feel close to her. She's always watching over you.**_**" **_**– **__**Logan Fell**_

"_**I don't want to win. I just want to wear a pretty dress and have an amazing night with my friends. And most importantly, Caroline Forbes, I wanna see you glow when you win.**_**" **_**– **__**Snow Silverstone**_

"_**Ugh, you know what? Haisley, Paisley, why don't you…oh, why don't you go lick a cow!**_**" – **_**Snow Silverstone**_

"_**What Snow means, is get a life and go fuck yourselves!**_**" **_**– **__**Caroline Forbes (to the Styne twins)**_

"_**I don't mean any disrespect but I'm sure this is about Jessica, right? Now I don't know what it's like to lose somebody like that… but… I would think that she would want you to be happy.**_**" **_**– **__**Dean Winchester**_

_**Sarah Blake:**_** "**_**So this is what you guys do for a living?**_**" **_**Sam Winchester:**_** "**_**Not exactly. We don't get paid.**_**"**

"_**With what me and my brother do, it's… Sarah, I had a girlfriend. And she died. And my Mom died too. I don't know, it's like, it's like I'm cursed or something. Like death just follows me around. Look, I'm not scared of much, but if I let myself have feelings for anybody, I'm scared they'd get hurt too.**_**" – **_**Sam Winchester**_

"_**John, whatever I can do to help to keep this town safe; even if it means spending time with you.**_**" **_**– **__**Damon Salvatore**_

"_**When I found Vicki… I swear, ever since I've been having this feeling… like we're living a Sara Sheppard novel!**_**" **_**– **__**Caroline Forbes**_

"_**It's me. Listen, we've got a problem. I think the vampires in Mystic Falls are the least of our worries.**_**" **_**– **__**John Gilbert**_

"_**Hey, Matt. I know, I know, you don't want to talk to me. Hell, you can't even look at me without wanting to punch the daylights out of me. I get it. I just need to ask you something and I'll get out of your hair. I know Vicki used to hang with Joshua Reeves. What can you tell me about him?**_**" **_**– **__**Tyler Lockwood**_

"_**Okay, this week we're gonna set outside our regular curriculum for a lesson in local history as we approach Founders' Day. Apparently the community leaders feels it's more important than World War II but hey, what do I know?**_**" **_**– **__**Alaric Saltzman**_

"_**I just had so much to deal with after Grams' funeral and, honestly after you told me the tomb spell failed, I just really didn't want to come back.**_**" **_**– **__**Bonnie Bennett**_

"_**My Mom was really into this Founders' day stuff. She was even Miss Mystic in her day. I kind of want to do it for her. Plus, if I bail, Snow'll kill me.**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert**_

"_**Who do you think you're talking to? I know what it's like. That Jekyll and Hyde feeling, that switch, sometimes it goes off and you snap. Right now is not a good time for me to be worried about you snapping.**_**" **_**– **__**Damon Salvatore**_

"_**Another dead end for Violet Eyes. You think maybe Hawaii? Ooh, or maybe Alaska.**_**" **_**– **__**Dean Winchester**_

"_**Hey Snow! I appreciate what you did. Caroline's lucky to have a friend like you.**_**" **_**– **__**Matt Donovan**_

"_**You know what I think, Snow? That if you ever decide to represent Virginia in the Miss America pageant, out of every single contestant throughout the pageant's history, you'd be the only one to claim the stereotypical desire of world peace and genuinely mean it.**_**" **_**– **__**Caroline Forbes**_

"_**Listen, Elena, Snow, I can't pretend that everything's okay. Everything my Grams did was to protect us from those vampires in the tomb. And now they're out which means she died for nothing.**_**" **_**– **__**Bonnie Bennett**_

_**Joshua:**_** "**_**The abomination has been quite busy.**_**" **_**Balthazar:**_** "**_**Joshua, brother, I cannot recount the amount of times I've told you this, I do not care about trifling mortals and their woes.**_**"**

"_**Tell Bastien to dial down the flirting, Carol. Logan's about to blow a gasket.**_**" **_**– **__**Richard Lockwood**_

"_**Jonathan Gilbert journaled his whole life. Right down to the bitter, insane, drunken end. He had a lot of demons.**_**" **_**– **__**John Gilbert**_

"_**He has no idea what normal is, his entire existence isn't normal. Normal to a vampire is drinking human blood but he spent all his time fighting it when he should have been learning to control it and now, it's controlling him instead.**_**" **_**– **__**Damon Salvatore**_

"_**There's a part of me that's so angry, you know, that she covered up what happened to Vicki and erased my memory but there's also this other part of me that's glad. I…I don't want to remember Vicki like that. …As someone who wanted to hurt me.**_**" **_**– **__**Jeremy Gilbert**_

_**Paisley Styne:**_** "**_**One more time I hear another imbecile gushing over perfect orphan Annie, I'm gonna hurl!**_**" **_**Haisley Styne:**_** "**_**Great. Do that. But make sure you aim at that hoe! Ruin the dress and her night. She doesn't deserve anything nice!**_**"**

_**Damon Salvatore:**_** "**_**So, Bon Bon, how's it feel, road tripping with two vampires and your teacher? Still hate me.**_**" **_**Bonnie Bennett:**_** "**_**Damon, if I'm interested in having small talk, trust me, Logan or Mr. Saltzman would be my first choice. So keep your eyes on the road.**_**"**

"_**Stefan, they found Snow. She's with them, she's safe. But… Snow's in another coma, and… it's too risky to bring her here. People'll talk. And Mayor Lockwood is already suspicious enough. Logan's gonna take her to a cabin by the lake he rented until she wakes up.**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert**_

"_**So, for the past hundred and forty-six years, I've had this hunch. And now, after all this waiting I can finally get answers. I want you to find them for me. Maddox, you are to go to Mystic Falls – a quaint town in Virginia I assure you. A tomb purportedly held twenty-seven vampires, I need you to be discretely check if Katerina was ever in that bloody tomb.**_**" **_**– **__**Klaus Mikaelson**_

* * *

**A/N:**** 21 Pages & over 21,000 words! **_**Whew**_**! I hope you enjoyed this lonngggg chapter!**

**(1) The plot thickens now! Did you like how I incorporated the MF Gang with the Winchesters?**

**(2) So finally, Tyler played a part! To be completely honest, I never liked Tyler. Hated the guy, and after he became a hybrid and started plotting against Klaus, hated him even more. And don't get me started on his debut in TO. However, as a writer, the characters have to fit the plot, meaning I can't be biased. As I mentioned before, with Snow around, her OC doesn't leave much room for bashing. So I'm trying to portray Tyler in a good light. Here we have him finally making an actual appearance in Snow's life, and I hope I gave him justice to all you Tyler Lockwood fans out there!**

**(3) Did anyone notice the reference I made regarding Cinderella? Instead of leaving behind a glass slipper, Snow left behind a Christian Louboutin, 21st century style. LOL!**

**(4) Did you like the changes Snow made? Like how she had made it possible for Matt to escort Caroline? I adore Caroline, and in my opinion, the girl needs a lot of love!**

**(5) Did anyone see John Gilbert's speech coming? They're related by marriage? **_**What**_**? **_**How**_**? That's a story for another time… I need to keep you guys on your toes. I definitely enjoyed writing the confrontation between John, Damon, Logan, Elena, Bonnie and Danica. And I know Alaric didn't really have a part in the convo, but I felt like it's not his time to shine yet. I am having so much fun playing around with the characters and changing them. Also, I enjoyed changing Elena here, having her confront Bonnie about her actions.**

**(6) And what did you think about Bastien? LOL! Don't ask, I don't even know where he came from. I just feel like in TVD Universe the humans are so boring. Like it only concentrates on the supernatural creatures but obviously Mystic Falls thrives because of the human population. So that's what I'm trying to do in this story, shine light on the humans as well, that YES, humans DO exist in this universe.**

**(7) Regarding Snow's powers… What are they? …Why does she have them? …What is she? ...What other powers does she have (if she has any more powers)? Those are answers for another time. As the story progresses you'll find out & please don't hate me *ducking rotten tomatoes* but I already have half the story mapped out, so… those answers won't be revealed **_**completely**_** until Season 4 of TVD (which will be happening at around Season 5 of SPN). Gotta love me, LOL! Please don't hate me! I promise it'll be worth it. (As mentioned before, the timeline is different until Season 5 of SPN everything will be squeezed into 2 years)**

**(8) SPN Universe: Provenance & Dead Man's Blood.**

**(9) We're so close to season 2 I cannot wait! So I have a poll for my dear readers: Katherine Pierce, should she be a friend, enemy or frenemy to Snow? &&& Richard Lockwood and Mason Lockwood: should both of them die, none of them die, or just one of them? If one, then which brother would you prefer to survive? Lemme know! BTW, next chapter will be the last one for Season 1 of TVD & SPN! YAY!**

**R&R.**


	17. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer:**** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters, ideas and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

_**CHAPTER 16:**_

**BRICK BY BRICK, EMBER TO INFERNO**

* * *

**Trapped (**_**verb**_**): catch in a trap; prevent someone from escaping from a place**

"_**We all live in a house on fire, no fire department to call; no way out, just the upstairs window to look out of while the fire burns the house down with us trapped, locked in it.**_**"**

"_**Fire cleanses and purifies, but it is also creative and destructive. It can consume everything in its path and it is the only one of the elements that cannot exist without feeding on something else.**_**"**

"_**I'm not upset that you lied to me, I'm upset that from now on I can't believe you.**_**"**

"_**When the spark turned into a flame, and the flame grew much higher, and my hope, faith and every last desire. It's just another thing that we lost in the fire.**_**"**

* * *

"_What visions?!"_

Two simple words rang in the room in a dangerous combination of shocked anger, resonating through the brothers, both of whom had gone utterly still; too preoccupied with their recent epiphany they inadvertently forgot about their father's presence. The silence however, only grew longer when Sam's wide fearful eyes automatically dropped to the ground, nervously counting the plethora of cigarette burns staining the carpeted flooring, and Dean fidgeted uncomfortably, mouth parting and promptly slamming shut as his frantic eyes swiveled between his brother and father, at a complete loss for words.

As the quietness escalated, so did John's impatience. "_Well_?" he demanded gruffly, furious eyes intent on Dean, confident his faithful son wouldn't dare disobey a direct order and feed him lies. But to his unmitigated surprise, his eldest opposed his expectations, the frantic pair of green eyes choosing to bore a hole through Sam's stiff form instead. Exhaling a huff of irritation, butterscotch orbs started to blend with the darkness of their pupils as they abandoned Dean and focused on Sam, "Are either one of you plannin' on cluing me in on what the _hell_ is going on anytime soon?!"

"Sam," the welcoming sound of Dean's voice prompted the pair of soft browns to pick up from the floor and squarely meet his big brother's gaze. "It's your call," almond-shaped jade eyes shone with sincerity, and Sam easily deciphered the unspoken words – "_I'm not going anywhere … no matter what, you have me … I'm with you._"

Collecting himself, Sam squared his shoulders, his brother's presence and staunch support instilling a gargantuan amount of confidence in him, and looked John in the eye. "I get visions," Sam stated with aplomb. When John flatly reiterated his statement and Dean stared at him with disbelief, gesturing with a hand to continue, Sam adopted a painful expression and elucidated at a slower pace, "At first, I thought they were nightmares. Then Jessica she-, what happened to her was almost identical to my _nightmare_. So, yes, Dad. I have these visions and things happen exactly the way I see them." Wincing, he added in an extremely hesitant tone, "It's like the closer I get to anything to do with the demon the stronger the visions get."

A different type of silence encompassed the shoddy motel room.

John stood ramrod straight, his eyes fixated intensely on Sam who could have sworn he detected a flicker of fear in the twin depths of butterscotch.

In the background, Dean cleared his throat, clearly discomforted, "Dad?"

But John remained unresponsive. They expected him to rant and rave about the abnormality, to flinch away from Sam like he were considered part of the nonhumans they ruthlessly hunted down and mercilessly killed, for his face to contort with disgust or aversion, to create distance between them and abandon them, to disown Sam as his son, or perhaps convince Dean his brother was a monster. However, neither of their presumptions ensued from the disclosure. Instead, John's broad shoulders drooped and, with an air of resignation, he trudged across the room and slouched into one of the moth-eaten chairs arranged around a rickety-looking three-legged table. Emitting a long-drawn-out sigh, John, after viciously rubbing his weary face with his large, calloused hands, met Sam's anxious stare, guilt and self-hatred churning in his belly at the fearful expressions on both his sons' faces, as though fearing his harsh reaction.

Finally, in a voice of forced calm, John filled the void of silence, "All right. _When_ were you going to tell me about this?"

Stunned at the calmness radiating from their irascible father and by his level-headed approach, Dean and Sam exchanged a short baffled glance before, in unison, they met John's weary eyes, their irises transforming back to their warm shade. Weakly, Dean uttered, "We, _ah_, we didn't know what it meant."

Dipping his head sharply, John's stare turned scorching, its blaze directed at Dean, "Something like this starts happening to your brother, you pick up the phone and you _call me_!" Hand clenched, the veins protruding and tanned skin bone-white, John slammed his fist into the table in emphasis.

His fury mirroring John's, Dean's composed comportment turned belligerent. Jade eyes flinty and a twitch in his strong jaw, he took a furious step forward, "Call you? Are you _kidding_ me?" A derisive scoff ejected forcibly from his lips which had curled downward, all of which belied the stark distress etched on his expressive face, "Dad I _called you_ from Lawrence all right? _Sam called you_ when I was _dying_-" only Sam correctly deciphered the anguish that quickly flickered across his normally stoic father's face, "-I mean, getting you on the phone?" Dean proceeded to emit a bark of cynical laughter, eyes hard and leveled at John, "I got a better chance of winning the lottery."

_Damn that hurt_.

John grimaced and subtly lifted a hand to his chest as though he were rubbing off the pain inflicted upon him from the truthful remarks his eldest remorselessly volleyed at him. How were his sons to know _he_ was the one that led them to Reverend LeGrange in Nebraska? Too stubborn, his theory unwavering, certain that alienating his sons would keep them safe from the demon-bastard, the instant John listened to the tearful voice message Sam left him, claiming his eldest was on his deathbed, John dropped _everything_ he was doing and frantically searched for a way to save his son; on the third day, the odd happenings in Nebraska was brought to his attention and he called his old hunting buddy Joshua, who passed the news on to Sam. Of course, _afterwards_, Joshua delivered a lengthy tongue-lashing in regards to his deliberate attempts to ignore his sons, which culminated with him calling him a _pinheaded shmuck_ for good measure before he hung up on him.

When Dean called regarding the disturbances at their old house in Lawrence, John came. He may not answer their calls, but John made sure to be within close range in case they needed him – case in point, the hunt in Chicago with the Daeva and the she-demon.

"You're right," John simply responded, putting a hand out, palm facing Dean. His agreeable attitude prompted bemusement from Sam and John inwardly rolled his eyes – _he wasn't that much of a hard ass._ "Although I'm not too crazy about this new tone of yours, you're right. I'm sorry."

Sam scoffed, head shaking from left to right, "Look, the fact I'm having visions isn't important. What _is_, is the demon burning that girl on the ceiling!"

"Who, I might add, _you let_ leave with a bunch of monsters!" Dean bit out, still roiling at that nasty fact; John Winchester never held any tolerance toward monsters. _Never_. To him, if you were a monster, a swift death ensued. No muss, no fuss, and definitely no exceptions, _whatsoever_.

Deep furrows crowded John's forehead. Admittedly, the instant Sam began shooting his mouth off about _visions_ of all things, John got infected with tunnel vision. He blanked out completely, unable to focus on anything but the imminent future that crippled him with paralytic fear. "What girl on the ceiling? What are you talkin' about?" he demanded, disregarding Dean and his spanking new disrespectful tone.

Flinching, Sam sagged into the coffee-stained chair positioned in front of John's moth-eaten one. "Around a week ago, I had a vision about the demon attacking a girl. It was…_odd_. I didn't know when or where it'd happen, all I know is she has these bright _violet eyes_ and knew a Logan, Damon, and Stefan," Sam enumerated. "The demon killed her like Mom and, and Jess. Dean and I did a nationwide search, but came up with nothing. Until today. Her eyes may have been closed, but _I know_ she's the girl from my vision. it's too much of a coincidence, especially since two of the men that got her is called Logan and Damon," he concluded emphatically, large eyes beseeching his father to believe him while Dean proceeded to fume in the background as he busied himself with making coffee, gnashing his teeth in frustration for letting the innocent girl leave with _monsters_.

John's entire body went cold and an invisible fist squeezed his heart. Eyes almost black again turned fierce and there was a grim set to his jaw, "_No_. No she's not gonna die like they did. No one is, _ever again_." He punctuated his declaration with another punch to the abused three-legged table. Standing up, he began to pace furiously around the room. Dean and Sam stared, waiting for their father to make a move and when he did, his subsequent words evoked anger and indignation, "I can't stay, boys."

Scrambling to his feet, Sam, his face twisted in rage, spat out, "You're leaving us _again_?!"

Fuming, Dean blocked the path to the door, "You're not going anywhere, Dad! I want answers, and like _hell _am I gonna let you run off without us."

Dark irises faded to inborn butterscotch, though the warmth had yet to recover. John stared at his eldest son, eyes calculating and flinty. "This tone of yours, you gonna keep it up?" a smidgeon of sarcasm laced his gruff tone. Head shaking at Dean's stubborn silence, John rubbed at his temple with the ridge of his palm, a weary sigh leaving him, "Vampires."

"_What_?" Dean and Sam intoned, identical looks of confusion gracing their handsome features, their antagonistic behavior melting at the non sequitur.

Mildly amused, John disclosed, "You asked what they were? _Vampires_." Predicting the interruption of litanies of disagreement, he held up a hand, effectively silencing them, "Don't cut me off. Lemme speak. You wanted answers, I'm givin' 'em." Mollified, their parted mouths obediently clicked shut. "I mentioned before I thought vampires were extinct 'cause hunters like Elkins wiped 'em out. While true, I've always known about the existence of…_the other kind_. Vampires," he sighed, dragging a hand down his face. "There're _two_ species of them. Now, I dunno much about their origins, just that they obviously come from a different Maker. And going by experience, the ones that came for the-, for the girl are more dangerous. Know how to be discrete in their feedings and don't call much attention to themselves."

As though he were a kid in a classroom, Sam hesitantly raised a hand halfway into the air, "If you knew about them, then _why_ didn't you tell us about them?"

"Like I said, they're more dangerous. Got many aces up their sleeves and a hell of a lot more powerful and gifted than the ones in the barn," John snarled through gritted teeth. Again, predicting Dean's interruption, he glared him into silence. "They're faster, stronger, smarter, and have the power of mental manipulation – something called compulsion," he summarized. "Sunlight however, affects them. So does wood. Their kryptonite however, one that'd prevent compulsion is… vervain."

That, prompted realization to dawn on them.

"_Vervain_?" Sam repeated in disbelief. "Now everything makes sense. You religiously had us ingest vervain, keeping the herb on our person. Heck, you basically taught us to shower in it! Wouldn't it have been easier to, _oh I don't know_, tell us straight up?!"

Cantankerous, John growled, "I was trying to _protect you_!"

"Yeah? And who's gonna protect that poor girl!?" Dean snarled, lips curling in contempt. He whirled round, his fist deliberately smashing into the plastered wall. "She's a sitting duck with them! You _allowed _two dangerous vampires to leave with the girl and that human guy! Speaking of that girl, no point guessing _what_ she is! She's a witch! What, did you think we couldn't stand a chance against them—"

"_That's enough_." Despite the eerie calmness of John's voice, the protruding jugular veins and the redness of his face, which was contorted with fury, indicated _just_ how angry John Winchester currently was. "_You_ don't talk to me that way. You hear me?! Nip that tone in the bud," he hissed. Head slashing viciously, he turned his back on them and grabbed his discarded leather jacket from one of the twin beds. Suddenly, the atmosphere changed and with it, John's rigid posture. His head dropped between his shoulders and his voice softened considerably, "Everything I did… everything I'm _doing_, it's to keep you boys safe."

He then turned around and the brothers were taken aback by the raw emotion on John's face, unshed tears collecting in his warming eyes, "You're my sons. I already lost your mother and that night, I promised myself, I'd keep you safe." Sighing loudly, he blinked at the ceiling and attempted to compose himself, "These vampires, while they might be dangerous, powerful, _cunning_… they have a long history with humans. Most of them, their nest consists of humans. They befriend them, protect them, live alongside them. I don't like it, but throughout the years, I've learned to pick my battles. That, that girl, _whoever she is_, those four obviously came looking for her. She's a part of their nest. I would have never let them take her if I felt they posed a danger to her. Don't forget, one of 'em saved your life Sam. So yes, I let them leave."

Striding to the door, Dean cleared his throat, and when he spoke, his voice was tender, his dutiful tone making a hesitant comeback, "Where are you going?"

Unseen, his back facing them, John roughly dragged both hands down his face, brushing the traitorous tears away, before he turned to face them with a tight smile, "I have something I need to take care of."

"No. Dad!" Sam bellowed, jumping forward and throwing his entire weight at the door in an attempt to prevent him from leaving, "This fight isn't just yours anymore! I wanna help. _We_-" long arm flailing, he pointed at Dean then himself, "-wanna help. We're stronger _together_—"

Cutting into Sam's tirade, John simply agreed, successfully bringing his sons up short, both of them gaping at him in profound shock. "You're right. Both of you were right. When I got caught by those bloodsuckers, I realized where I went wrong. I guess we are stronger as a family." Exorbitantly pleased, Dean and Sam beamed back, any vestiges of hostility subsiding. "But I do need to leave. I've something I gotta do. But, when I come back, we go after this thing… _together_," he promised, a heartwarming smile on his handsome face.

Warmth enveloped Dean, "You're not gonna leave us in the dust again?"

He shook his head and from within the inside pocket of his leather jacket, withdrew a torn piece of paper, "No. In fact, I've got a hunt for you. Or, well…" The large smile morphed into a crooked one, warm eyes fixated on Dean, "I guess you can call it unfinished business. It's in Fitchburg, Wisconsin. Once you're done, give me a call. We'll meet up, kill that son of a bitch once and for all."

Confined in his truck, sitting in the driver's seat, John released one hand from the steering wheel in favor of grabbing his phone. After two rings, the person on the other end picked up. "_It's me. We need to talk—_"

* * *

She gazed straight ahead, half-aware of the concerned pools of radiating hazel intermittently flashing toward her. The buzzing of clashing thoughts percolated in her head and her eyes were deeply entranced by the flurry of cars as they performed a mesmerizing dance between lanes, across the river of tarmac underneath the cloud-infused blue horizon. All in all, it looked like the start of a good day. _Unfortunately_, it didn't _feel_ like one.

"Penny for your thoughts?" the smooth tenor pervaded the confines of the car.

A nervous breeze of bell-like laughter ensued, the sadness reflecting in doe violet eyes antithetical to the smile flitting across her lips, "I doubt you've got enough pennies, Uncle Logan." The weight of his intense stare seared the side of her face, compelling a form of elaboration from Snow, "I've been in a coma for a _week_, and before that, _two weeks_. I spontaneously disintegrate bad guys; emotions overwhelm me, making me _not myself_, something Danica can contest to…" She bit into her lower lip, front teeth sinking into its rosy plumpness as she mulled over the cluster-fudge that has become her life and her recent alarming dysfunctional nature, "And I, _I teleported_, Uncle Logan! _Between. states_! Smack dab in the middle of an impending vampire attack."

An emotion akin to resignation flashed in her eyes as she, at long last, wrenched them from the mélange of colors to collide with a pair of eyes softened by the sunrays, resulting in a perfect shade of honey. "I feel like my life's passing me by. That I'm simply standing idly by and going through the motions because _that's_ what's expected from me…and so I don't bring unwanted attention and suspicion to myself," she confided, eyes fluttering shut at the admission, long, thick, black lashes, free of mascara, tenderly brushing her cheekbones.

One hand locking the steering wheel, Logan reached out with his other to clasp a pair of dainty ones and squeeze in reassurance, the three hands balanced on her jeans-clad thigh. "Everything will work out in time, Jellybean. Where'd the optimistic outlook on life go?"

"After my _second_ coma in the span of _a _month…_Yeah, _it's on an interminable hiatus," Snow shot back, her nose twitching adorably. "If I succumb to a coma _every_ _time_ I develop some new ability _or-_, or power that enhances my _freakishness_, then what's the point of living? If I'm gonna spend it unconscious and only get to enjoy a few days, like a never-ending loop, I honestly don't know if we can call it 'living'. I'm not _living_, Uncle Logan. I'm being _tormented_. I'm-, I'm _cursed_," crystal teardrops squeezed out the corner of her doe eyes, tracing her cheekbones and coursing down her chin, the heavy drops landing in a splatter on the three twined hands.

The SUV suddenly veered, deftly dodging a pothole and simultaneously skipping the turn which led to Mystic Falls.

Blinking in shock, her lashes dampening in the process, Snow stared bewilderedly at her godfather. "Wha-"

"You're _not_ _cursed_," Logan snapped in a voice of forced calm that brook absolutely no argument. His other hand joining the wheel, he expertly weaved between cars, some of which honked at him, and one more swerve later, the Ford Explorer skidded to an abrupt halt in front of a diner, the screech of tires renting the air in protest. Shifting the gear on park, Logan promptly unfastened his seatbelt and turned in his seat so he could face her and properly dispel her morbid line of thoughts. "Snow, you're _not a freak_." Framed by honey-blonde lashes, two orbs of intensity seared her face. "You are a beautiful, compassionate and amazing girl, Snow. You're _special_. _Unique_. You're _gifted_," palm cupping the side of her face, each description was punctuated by the pad of his thumb stroking the apple of her cheek, his eyes open and honest, allowing Snow to search deep into his soul. "_You're not a freak_. I don't want to _ever _hear you call yourself that. _Never again_."

The intensity of his stare, the sincerity in his voice and his candidness forced Snow to lower her gaze, though she pressed her cheek into his warm palm, another tear cascading between his fingers and down to his wrist.

Exhaling loudly, Logan drew her into his embrace, her seatbelt unfastening at lightning speed so she could fall into his arms, undeterred. Sniffing, she buried her face into the crook of his neck and he softly stroked her long curls, the gesture incredibly soothing, he could practically sense the knots in her back loosen. "This isn't a permanent thing, Jellybean. Alaric, Damon, Danica and myself, we're looking for answers. I won't lie and say I know how you feel, 'cause I don't. I got lucky and had help. But you, Snow, you have a team behind you, a support group that _loves_ you. For now, you're gonna have to settle with a self-help process until we get to the bottom of whatever's happening to you. And I _promise you_, when you do learn, when you hone your abilities, you'll look back on this moment and smile."

Extricating herself from her godfather's warmth, Snow bobbed her head a couple of times and thoroughly brushed off the tears staining her face with the ridge of her palms.

Smiling winsomely, he patted her thigh and gestured for her to climb out of the vehicle as he opened the door and smoothly stepped out. "Now come on. You need a pick-me-up and it just so happens, a little birdie told me ol' Betty makes your favorite cupcakes. _Chocolate marshmallow_," he stage-whispered, back of hand pressed to one corner of his mouth, hiding his lips to all but Snow.

Snow's giggle coincided with the door chime as Logan gallantly pulled open the door, guiding her into the warmth of Betty's Burrow with a hand on the small of her back. "Let me guess. That little birdie starts with an 'E' and ends with _Lena_," she laughed, her mellifluous voice ringing in the cozy diner. She didn't need the choc-marsh cupcake to lift her spirits, the familiar smell of Betty's baking and the heavenly aroma of fresh coffee beans wafting through the air already had her beaming with delight, nostalgia enveloping her like a warm blanket.

"_Oh my Stars_!" a motherly voice echoed in the diner, disrupting a few nosy patrons from their breakfast, and Snow immediately searched for the signature twinkling blue eyes of Betty Warner, the diner's owner.

A breath of laughter escaped Snow and she skipped to the counter, a merry smile painting her lips. The plump sixty-three year old encased Snow in her arms, hugging tightly, "Oh, my lovely Snow-cone. _Ooh,_ I have _missed you_!" Following her convivial exclamation, she pulled her back, sharp eyes adopting an analyzing glint that greatly resembled a hawk, "Let me take a good look at you. _Heavens_, you're all skin and bones." In true mother hen fashion, she frantically clucked her tongue and slid her spectacles down her nose, "What is wrong with that darn town, is there something in the waters, do they not _feed you_? Caroline and Bonnie passed by a month ago, and let me tell you, they were a pair of skeletons. But you and Elena? Gosh, I was beginning to think you girls have forgotten all about poor old Betty." Hands akimbo, she compressed her lips and waited.

Another bell-like laughter sprang past Snow's lips, an effervescent sheen in her doe eyes. "Grammy B, it's impossible to forget you. Elena and I've been meaning to stop by, but… it's been a hard couple of months," she disclosed with an air of awkwardness, trailing off in the middle.

But the old matriarch always had been as sharp as a whip; expression glum, she inclined her head in a somber demeanor. "Oh, yes, yes. You poor dears. I was so sad to hear about Gray and Randa. I _cried_ when I heard 'bout the _terrible_ accident," she utilized a conspiratorial tone, as though she were telling Snow a secret. "But I did go to their funeral. Oh _yes_ I did. The poor dears, may they rest in peace," she uttered, sounding strangled. However, just as abrupt, her mood transformed completely, a vibrant smile on her round face, eyes twinkling once more. "Well I'll be damned, _Lo…gan Fell_-" she purposely prolonged the utterance of his name, the effect slightly dramatic, "-my, my, _my_. The heartthrob finally found his way back home. Where've you been, handsome? _Hmm_!" eyes narrowed, she looked him down.

Chuckling, a roguish grin on his face that possessed an infallible ability to make anybody swoon, Logan came up behind Snow, draping an arm around her shoulders, "Awh, c'mon, Grammy B. Don't be like that. I _did_ stop by on my way back to town coupla weeks back. You saying I'm forgettable, is that it? _That really hurts_." He flashed Snow a quick wink before rearranging his handsome features into a crestfallen mask, hand over heart.

Her stubby arm flung forward, smacking him on the shoulder. "_Why you_," she chortled. Pinching his chin then each of his cheeks, Logan squinting his eyes and humoring her, Betty wagged a finger overhead, "That couple weeks you're talking about was _September_, boyo. We're in the middle of February. That's almost _six months_. And don't even get me started on _before that_. Years, boyo, _years_ you don't stop by. You should be ashamed of yourself."

Fist met mouth in Snow's desperate endeavor to quell the burst of laughter that threatened to erupt. It truly was a hilarious sight to behold, seeing the notoriously titled – big bad vampire and sweet-talker bad-boy, womanizer celebrity extraordinaire – Logan Fell, get treated like a child by a frail mortal woman. But she was _Betty Warner_, grandmother and mother to all.

For as long as anyone could remember, Betty's Burrow had always been a home away from home for the denizens of Mystic Falls and Grove Hill, and was sometimes patronized by Richmonders. It was a family business, three to four generations of Warners working in the diner, traced back to the cessation of the 19th century when the original Betty decided to open an establishment where people of all races, gender, status, sexuality and ethnicity could congregate together and just enjoy a meal without judgment from others. Grandparents took their children, and continuing tradition, upon becoming parents themselves, they would take their children to the homely diner. Becoming patrons of Betty's Burrow was considered a rite of passage.

"So, you and Johnny finally decided to patch things up, _eh_?"

Blinking, Logan and Snow exchanged a puzzled look before their gaze captured the matriarch's thrilled pair of blue. "_Who_?" godfather and goddaughter inquired in perfect unison.

It was Betty's turn to blink, her head cocked in confusion, "Why, Johnny. _Gilbert_ o' course. What's the matter with you two-" she cut herself off, eyes round in realization. She dilly-dallied around, gaze averted and, to the vampire before her, he easily construed her murmur of, "_oh, me and ma big mouth. My Mamma always told me it'd get me into trouble one day_". She proceeded to beam at the two, the motion random to Snow who hadn't been privy to her murmurings and therefore, was ignorant to the fact that Betty was attempting to distract them. "Well now. I'm certain you two didn't stop by to hear the ramblings of an old woman. Jacob's behind the counter taking orders, how 'bout we get you two somethin', hmm…?"

However, just as they approached of the many Warner grandsons, a surprising figure joined them by the register, trademark cocky smirk firmly in place, "Logan, Snow. I must say, this _is_ a surprise."

"_Johnny_," Logan sneered, eyes flickering from an exasperated Betty to his old childhood friend turned douche. Politely, Snow inclined her head in greeting, "Mr. Gilbert."

Eyes dark and narrowed, Logan's sneer didn't waver for even a second, "Got a hot date, _Johnny_?" Which was all it took for the ex-friends to begin sniping at each other, viciously hurling sarcastic and hurtful remarks in an attempt to one-up the other.

Severely uncomfortable, Snow was thankful for Betty's presence, the headstrong matriarch instantly swooping to her rescue. "Snow, you remember my grandson, Jacob, yes? He's a freshman at Whitmore," she stated proudly, sending him a clandestine wink from behind Snow's back.

"Grammy B," Jacob groaned. Despite the chagrined flush coloring his features, he donned a charming smile once Snow greeted him, laughter in her voice, "Hey, Jake."

Chuffed the younger girl recalled his preference to be called by the diminutive of his name, he whipped out a box with a teasing flourish, inside of which he artfully arranged nine cupcakes, already heated and preserved, "Had it made when I saw you come in. Choc-marsh, am I right?"

"You remembered!" Snow exclaimed, genuinely delighted.

Taking their affable interaction as a sign, Betty proceeded to sing Jacob praises, laying it on _really_ thick, embarrassing the nineteen-year-old as only a grandmother could. Regardless of his efforts to put an end to her boasting, Betty couldn't stop shooting her mouth off. "Remember Tracey, Grammy B," Jacob huffed, wearily rolling his eyes. "My _girlfriend_."

A moue of disdain crossed the intractable matriarch's weathered face, stubby arms tightly folding against her rounded form, "Well, I don't like her." Innately incapable of sticking to one emotion for too long, a bright smile painted her lips, eyes crinkling and accentuating her crow's feet, "I'm going to leave you two alone, let you lovies catch up, hmm?" Parting them with a cheeky, meaningful wink, she waddled off to embarrass a table of lifelong patrons.

Stretching his forearms across the length of the counter, Jake propped his elbows against it and flashed Snow a crooked smile, a hint of an apology on his lips. His dark eyes glittered with amusement at the sight of her flushed cheeks, "Eh, don't trouble your pretty lil' head about my grandmother. She's tried settin' me up with your friends Forbes and Bennett when they last stopped by. Apparently fixing me up with a member of your clique is a latest hobby she's takin' up."

"_Phew_! That's a relief," Snow giggled, exaggeratedly dragging the back of her hand across her forehead and prompting a chuckle from Jacob.

Unfortunately, the peaceful moment wasn't meant to last.

A call from Damon interrupted the petty squabbling between Logan and John. Glare not receding from his face, Logan promptly answered and John bore witness to the color slowly drain from his bronze complexion. A grim set to his jaw, he hung up and steered Snow to the door, his expression troubled and a mite furious. And while he effortlessly ignored John's pestering for information, he dutifully provided Snow with a vague response, "An unwanted guest arrived at Mystic Falls last night."

Hurrying out of the homely establishment that acted as the perfect embodiment of a haven from reality, a shiver wracked Snow's form, her back tingling, and she paused by the SUV, hand frozen around the door handle. The entire time, from the moment she stepped into Betty's Burrow, she hadn't been able to shake off the sensation of being watched, intense eyes obsessively stalking her every _single_ move. Squinting through the tempered glass and perusing the diner's interior, she came up empty. Shaking her head, Snow climbed into the vehicle and mentally prepared herself for the next round of drama Mystic Falls would be featuring in.

A pair of intense eyes continued watching until she ducked into the confined safety of the black SUV and the vehicle disappeared entirely from view.

* * *

Snow's return was met with much fanfare. So much so, she had a nasty suspicion Caroline might be planning a party in her honor.

Hugs and kisses were distributed all around, her friends gushing over how missed she was and once she had a private audience with Elena and Bonnie, they listened to her woefully and attentively, the latter promising to find out why she kept succumbing to week-long comas, confident that, if the living were clueless, the Spirits definitely weren't as her ancestor, Emily Bennett was extremely aware of her importance and her nature, incessantly referring to her as the 'Pure' – whatever _that_ meant.

Then there were two, Bonnie heading off to Mystic Falls High with Caroline and Matt. Consecutively, Elena effectively distracted her from her troubles with chatter regarding her newly discovered mother issues, the brunette tearfully claiming her mother was an emotionless monster as she described in excruciating detail her confrontation at the Grill which concluded moments before Snow and Logan drove past Wickery Bridge.

Armed with her box of choc-marsh cupcakes, Snow temporarily parted with Elena, promising to meet her at the school with the rest of her peers to help with the Miss Mystic Float, as she had something important to do. Turning around, Snow strode into the Grill, hugging the cake box to her chest and marched to the booth at the back, violet eyes determinedly meeting the pair of emeralds. At her approach, the triad stared at her in a state of various emotions; Logan's confusion and Danica's wary surprise hit her immediately, and Davina's boredom morphed into interest.

"Ah, Snow?" Logan half-stood from his seat as he made to move toward her, features shining with discomposure. "What's wrong, did something happen? I thought you left with Elena."

A bubble of sweet laughter enveloped the confused triad and Snow pressed the tips of her fingers to her lips in order to slightly muffle the sound. Her head performed a cute shake as her eyes fell on Danica. "I don't want to disturb your _you-time_," Snow gracefully slid into the booth next to Logan, her eyes intent on the cat-like emeralds. "I just, I need to apologize to you, Ms. Claire," her head shook diminutively as though disappointed in herself. "My behavior and my attitude toward you was… it was _atrocious _and I'm genuinely ashamed at myself."

Taken aback, Danica's back hit the backrest and her hands released the cup of coffee they had been encasing. Logan, on the other hand, beamed with pride, his expression one of palpable delight. "Oh, you don't have to—" she began.

Lips pursed, Snow gently cut in, "Yes. Yes I do." She punctuated her words with a vigorous nod. "I was overwhelmed with so many emotions, most of which weren't my own. I'm not attempting to feed you excuses to exempt myself. I'm terribly sorry. _Truly_. You came at a time when I was going through so many changes and, I found out the truth about my father and I just, I flipped out on the wrong person." Her eyes glistened with unshed tears and she breathed out an awkward laugh, "You came here with good intentions, which is more I can say for most people. I'm, disappointed and heartbroken and profoundly sad _at my father_, and I took it out on you. I used you as an outlet because you were there. And you didn't deserve any of it. And… I've always been a firm believer of respecting my elders and I didn't. You didn't do anything to earn my fury and disrespect; you were kind, and despite my _unforgivable_ behavior toward you, you were _still_ kind and understanding. And my conscience wouldn't allow me to remain silent a moment longer." Sucking in a deep breath, her cheeks flushed a brilliant red at her rant, she shyly lowered her eyes and traced random shapes on the table with a blunt fingernail, "Uh, um, I guess I'm just trying to say I'm sorry, Ms. Claire."

"Oh, sweetie. It's alright," Danica rushed to say; the mother ached to gather the sweet girl in a loving embrace. She couldn't imagine Davina in her shoes; the mere thought had her wanting to break down in tears. To not have a mother, to mourn a father that's been alive the entire time… it was a painful and sad scenario to paint and unfortunately, it denoted Snow Silverstone's life. It was _heartbreaking_. "I appreciate your apology, and I don't hold anything against you. I cannot imagine what you're feeling or going through and my arrival must have been a vivid reminder of everything with your father. Your reaction was normal. So, apology accepted, Snow."

Grinning from ear-to-ear, Logan placed a chaste kiss on Snow's temple, "Would you like to join us for lunch?"

Her flushed cheeks faded back to ivory and the heavy guilt that's been trampling on her conscience dissipated. "I'd love to, but I _did_ promise Elena I'd help with the float. I'm part of the court and I haven't helped out _at all_," a smidgeon of horror molded with guilt, plain on her expressive features for the triad to see. "I have to lend a hand. It wouldn't be fair. But… maybe tomorrow we could have lunch?" she suggested, hopefully meeting the pair of emeralds in front of her. "I'd love to properly get to know you."

"So would I," Danica put in, ensuring Snow could sense her sincerity. "And it's Danica. Or Dani if you'd prefer. No more of that 'Ms. Claire' crap. You makin' me feel old, sweetie," she laughed, alleviating the ambience.

As always, the bell-like giggle that emanated from her lips captured the attention of a few nearby patrons. "Sure thing," she conceded agreeably. "I'll leave you to the rest of your lunch, then," pecking Logan on the cheek and sending the mother-daughter duo a benign smile, Snow got to her feet.

However, about to turn around, the unintentional side-glance brought the adorable eleven-year-old to her attention and she stopped short. Davina looked bored, the speck of longing vanishing behind her sparkling blue eyes, and the glum, friendless image she made tugged at Snow's heartstrings. "Hey, uh, Davina, you wanna come with?" she held her hand out, palm open, giving Davina the option to accept or refuse. "I'm sure sitting with old people must be _very_ _boring_," she exaggerated dramatically, pulling a funny face that prompted a small giggle from Davina. "If you want, and _of course_ if your mother's okay with it, you can meet my friends and help with the decorations for Founder's Day. There'll probably be painting, if that's your thing…?"

"Davvy _loves_ painting. She has a natural talent for arts. Something she probably inherited from her father's side of the family. _I_, for one, cannot paint to save a life," Danica jumped in, gratitude etched on every feature in her face. She worried her daughter would stay glum and depressed and continue to alienate herself from the public. As predicted, Davina didn't take too well to the news of leaving her home and friends and therefore, hadn't made _any _effort to fit in and build a life in Mystic Falls, despite their stay being temporary.

Suffice to say, Danica almost burst into tears when a spark of life returned to her daughter's eyes, instantly seeing a major improvement in Davina.

"If that's the case, then I'm definitely introducing you to Jeremy," Snow imparted as they left the Grill, the eleven-year-old girl's exuberance literally contagious, affecting her in an instant. "He's my best friend's little brother and I've kind of adopted him as my own… well, in my head that is," she laughed. "He's a _phenomenal_ artist. Every time he sketches, I think Da Vinci possessed him or something. So, Davina, tell me something about you…"

That was all the invitation the little girl needed to burst into an exultant, hyperactive speech, her hands moving animatedly as she spoke. In mere minutes, Snow became well acquainted with the basics of Davina Claire – born and raised in New Orleans, she had developed an interest in art and music; she loved her city and its history; her best friend was a fellow witch called Monique Deveraux and she had an enormous crush on a boy called Timothy who's a great violinist. And when Snow offered a cupcake, Davina was successfully hooked in the sweet girl's web, developing a genuine affection for the violet-eyed girl.

However, their bonding was promptly interrupted by the distinct sound of crying. Frantically searching the vicinity for its source, sharp eyes honed in on a girl, no older than six, sitting by her lonesome on one of the benches littered through the Town Square, and crying into her hands. Swift as an arrow, Snow made her way to the girl, her hand tightly clasping Davina's as she dragged her along. Crouching in front of the tiny blonde, her hair styled in pigtails, Snow asked, "Hey, what's wrong? Why're you crying?"

A pair of large watery blue eyes, framed by light lashes stuck together in clumps, peeked at her from over her little hands, "I can't find my mommy."

Heart swelling for the little girl, Snow wasted absolutely no second in imparting words of reassurance, "Oh, no, no, no. Don't cry, cutie. We'll find your mommy. And if we don't, my auntie is the Sheriff, I've never known her to fail at _anything_." Rooting through her purse, Snow withdrew a packet of tissues and got to work on wiping away the girl's tears. "Now, when I'm lost, I always find it best to retrace my steps, so-" for the second time that day, Snow found herself offering a hand to a younger girl, an encouraging smile lifting her lips, "-how about you take us to the last place you saw your mommy, yeah?"

Ensuring she had a tight grip on both girls' hands, Snow allowed herself to get tugged along by the suddenly frenetic six-year-old, a bad feeling simmering in her gut, which quickly rose to a boiling point when they approached a more secluded spot, away from the hustle and bustle of the Square. Unwittingly reaching out to gauge the girl's emotions, she sensed mild fear and numbness, almost like the six-year-old was moving on autopilot. Then-

"_MOMMY_!" With a surprising burst of strength, the little girl ripped her hand from Snow's grip and ran toward a blonde woman, her apathetic features instantaneously filling with emotion once she wound her tiny arms around her waist.

But Snow's attention was fixated on the predatory-looking brunette who calmly stood at the center, her green eyes coldly regarding her and a satisfied smile on her pretty face, the small upturn of her lips the only flavor added to her emotionless expression. As the mother and daughter casually walked away, chatting happily as though nothing happened, awareness dawned on Snow, her jaw dropped in horror, "They were compelled."

The woman mockingly brought her hands together and clapped, "Bravo."

Snow tightened her grip on Davina's hand and positioned herself in front of the little witch, shielding her from the vampire, "That's, that's _disgusting_. She's a _child_!"

"_Ugh_, spare me the righteousness. The most important thing is they're human and I'm _not_. I _don't care_," she sneered, eyes fixated on something behind her, flickering from the right to left. Plastering Davina flush to her back, Snow glanced over her shoulder and fear wrapped around her heart at the burly man and slinky woman strategically positioned behind them.

Violet orbs narrowed, "You're Isobel."

Twin eyebrows arched, Isobel gazing her at with a smidgeon of interest, "Well, aren't you a smart cookie. What tipped you off?"

Fully aware that provoking an emotionless vampire who looked down upon humans as inconsequential puppets meant to obey their every command and sate their hunger was tantamount to signing a death warrant, Snow summoned what little courage she had and matter-of-factly stated, "Other than the fact I know every single unfriendly vampire in town, Elena updated me on how much of an inconsiderate monster her biological mother turned out to be. You fit the bill down to the last T."

Inwardly shocked by her own words, other than the blood rushing to her ears, Snow heard Davina's sharp intake of breath and she clutched the sweaty little hand in hers in a vice grip. She wouldn't allow anything to befall the little girl entrusted in her care.

Isobel however, seemed amused, a menacing chuckle pushing past her lips, "So, you _do_ have fire after all. From what I've heard, you lack a backbone."

A sly smirk twisted her lips making the vampire look devious and Snow's heart stuttered. With Damon, despite his callous actions, his apathetic mask and murderous tendencies, Snow felt his emotions… she _sensed_ his regret where Elena and herself were concerned, she _sensed_ the deep affection and profound love he held for Stefan, despite his stubborn attempts to prove otherwise and the eternity of misery nonsense he constantly spewed. But with Isobel, Snow was met with a big blank canvas… a gaping hole of nothingness, a void of pitch black. Isobel lacked any positive emotions, all of them catering to evil and egomania.

"Your BFF, Chatty Carrie? The obnoxious tart wouldn't stop yapping and yapping _and yapping_," Isobel scoffed, the rolling of her eyes the only interruption from her bored inspection of her nails. "I didn't even need to compel her. But she pegged you all wrong. You _do_ have a voice." Smirking, an evil glint in her cold orbs, Isobel looked up, "_Although_, in her defense, most of the information she gave me were spot on. Without her, I wouldn't have come up with the perfect ploy to get you alone-" She cut herself off with a pointed glare at Davina, "Or well, _almost_ alone."

The subtle gesture was more than enough for comprehension to settle on Snow. "_No_!" Acting on instinct alone, Snow twisted on her spot and wrapped both arms around Davina, hugging the eleven-year-old to her form. "You are _not_ to touch a single strand on her head," and while her tone remained soft, it was laced with steel. To Isobel and even Snow's vehement surprise, the compelled humans ceased their approach and blinked at each other in confusion. They gave the perplexed vampire a questioning look and Snow inhaled sharply, realizing _she_ had somehow forced them to obey her command.

Needing to distract Isobel before she grew conscious of Snow's inexplicable abilities, she beseeched her best friend's emotionless mother, "Look, I'll come with you. And I _know_, _I know _you don't need my consent, that you can take me wherever you want kicking and screaming. But why make things messy. She's just a kid, she's only _eleven_. Let her go back to her mother and nobody will be suspicious… _Please_. This is me, a lowly human _begging you_ to spare this little girl's life. _Please_." A powerful gush of tears streamed down her face, staining her ivory complexion, her arms never detaching from Davina's trembling form.

As though a smelly sock had been placed right underneath her nose, Isobel tossed her a look of deep disgust, "Good _God_. Stop with all the histrionics." She rolled her eyes and sneered at Davina, "_Go_. And if you tell anybody, I'll snap your perfect little savior's neck."

"No, Snow-"

Eyes widening meaningfully, Snow cut her off, "Davina, go to your mother, okay? Just hang out with your friends and we'll go painting tomorrow, okay?" It was imperative Isobel didn't find out Davina was a witch, otherwise she wouldn't allow her to leave. The smart girl however, instantly comprehended the direction of Snow's thoughts and, despite the perilous situation they were literally in the middle of, her blue orbs shone with mischief.

With an obedient nod, Davina, after sparing her a woeful look and a parting hug, ran off to inform her mother and Logan of the trap Isobel had sprung on Snow.

* * *

Bored to tears, when Franck opened the door, wordlessly permitting her to abandon the barren room, Snow didn't hesitate, descending the spiraling staircase two steps at a time. Without looking up, Snow, automatically sensing the dark void which denoted Isobel, huffed, "You know, the next time you plan on keeping someone hostage, the least you could do is lock them in a room with a television."

"Snow?" two familiar masculine voices echoed in a combination of shocked alarm.

One foot planted on the landing and the other hovering over the last step, Snow froze, wide eyes hastening to lift from the ground, "Mr. Gilbert-, _oh my God_, _Jeremy_!" The cranky mood she inherited from being in close proximity to the gaping black hole – _Isobel_ – dissipated in a heartbeat at the sight of Jeremy slumped on the ground by Cherie's feet. Hastening to his side, she wrapped her slim arms around his form, drawing comforting circles on his solid back.

To John, seeing his nephew had him on overprotective mode. But realizing Isobel _also _captured Snow reduced him to a rage, red tingeing the edges of his vision. Glaring at the only woman he ever loved, he spat out, "This has gone too far, Isobel. You let them go. _Now_!"

Disinterest plain on her visage, in a matter of fact tone, Isobel drawled, "That gaudy ring on your finger comes off."

He then made an attempt to appeal to her better nature, "Come on Isobel, _I know you_, okay? It's _me_, John. You can't hurt a kid." His comment prompted Snow to press her mouth to Jeremy's shoulder in order to stifle a cynical scoff. Isobel heard the muffled sound however, and turned her glower onto Snow, a devious spark flitting past her eyes, "I tell you what, John. Pick a kid." Smiling like the cat that caught the canary, the vampire walked circles around the room, like a great cat stalking its prey. "Choose, your beloved nephew or your distant cousin."

Surprised by the information of Snow's relation to him, Jeremy's neck cricked at the speed with which he turned to train his wide eyes on the girl clinging to him like a limpet.

A dark look shadowed John's handsome face. Sapphire orbs stared at Jeremy, then Snow before they flickered and halted on Isobel, "Neither. Let them go and keep me."

"Well then, I suppose it's bye-bye Jeremy," Isobel smirked. John obstructed her path to his nephew, stepping in front of him, "_Really_? Are you that far gone? Look, I know you've changed but the old Isobel is somewhere in there, isn't she?" Utterly impassive, Isobel arched a brow at him. Giving it one last shot, he pleaded, "Come on, let them go."

Ejecting a command in French to her compelled human minions, the next thing Snow was aware of was the pain flooding her senses, her head in a great world of hurt as though a pair of cymbals were repeatedly bashing into her head – _one, two, three times_. At the same time, John landed on the floor beside her with Isobel looming over him, viciously tearing the Gilbert ring from his finger.

"_Wait_!" Snow screamed, scrambling to her feet and willing herself to cease massaging her temples lest Isobel got suspicious. "Let them both go. You don't need them and _you know it_." Seriously? Whose bravery was she borrowing, because despite her loved ones' endeavors to convince her otherwise, Snow knew she was a pathetic weak and defenseless girl. "You said it yourself. I'm the perfect leverage. Jer, he's Elena's concern. But me? Since you got your information from Caroline, you _know_ my godfather, the Salvatores and Bonnie'd do _anything_ to get me back. I'm everyone's leverage—"

Having grown too confident, she didn't see the backhand coming. Fortunately, John did. He pushed Snow out of the way, allowing the back of Isobel's hand to collide with his temple. Kind and considerate of him _really_, but it didn't matter. In the end, Snow felt the pain and she bit her tongue to quell a groan. Steel-like hands, cold and unyielding, gripped her upper arms and forced her onto her feet. She blinked the haze of pain from her eyes, a traitorous tear sliding down her face, only to see Isobel's menacing face inches from hers, "And how, pray tell, did you hear that? You were locked upstairs and I was on the phone—"

"With Katherine," Snow revealed involuntarily, mentally facepalming herself at the utter display of idiocy. She winced, a moan of pain leaving her as a new set of handprints were branded into her upper arms. "You were very loud, _okay_?" she yelled shrilly. "I had my ears pressed to the crack under the door!"

_Lie!_

Somehow, despite the large distance between them, Snow heard every single word from both ends of the phone, and throughout the entirety of the call, an eruption of goosebumps marred her arms at the eeriness of Katherine's voice and the similarity to Elena's. Although, she easily distinguished the difference – Elena's voice resembled sun and light, while Katherine's was dark and deadly. Moreover, she managed to construe the reason behind Isobel's unwelcome visit and the scheme the two vampires cooked up together, more importantly, their manipulation of John, taking advantage of his love for Elena and his identity as Elena's _father…!_

She demurely lowered her gaze, unable to meet Isobel's dagger-like glare for a second longer. Suddenly, she was hurled across the room, her back slamming none too gently against the wall. "_Ouch_," she groaned, lifting her eyes in time to see Isobel vanish from the room in a dark blur, her minions leaving the room a moment afterward, their pace lethargic. Consecutively, the darkness abandoned the house with Isobel's departure, and she sensed two blobs of apathy belonging to the compelled humans, standing guard outside the room by the foyer.

Pulling her back into awareness, a large pair of warm hands cupped her face, wiping away the tears she had inadvertently spilled. Vision returning, her view consisted of John's concerned face, the cocky, smarmy expression he usually donned gone. Beside her, Jeremy's voice infiltrated her eardrums, rants regarding her random bout of craziness interspersed with inquiries about her health.

Shaking her head to combat the faint ringing in her ears, she extricated herself from the worried Gilbert men and, for the second time that afternoon, rooted through her purse for tissue before handing the packet to John. "You're bleeding," she said by way of explanation. Jeremy emitted a soft laugh that leaned more toward the nervous side while John leveled her with a look of utter disbelief. "_What_?" she shrugged, genuinely confused by their reactions.

"Uh, you were tossed across the room like a ragdoll and you're acting like nothing happened," Jeremy pointed out the obvious. "Though I have to say, you were _awesome_. You've changed… the Snow I know wouldn't dare speak up to _anyone_. Let alone a vampire."

Snow scoffed, glumness draped across her face and she propped an elbow on her knee, chin in open palm, "Yeah, well, let's just say I've been having month of _hell_ after month of hell. I mean, I wake up from a coma _again_, looking forward to a nice day with my friends, only to get dragged into more drama and get kidnapped by my best friend's psycho mom—" All of a sudden, she did a double take, a large tablespoon of realization hitting her smack dab in the face. Eyes wide, she whipped around to face him, inhaling sharply, "_You know_."

A grim set to his jaw, Jeremy furiously looked away, his fingers forming a tight fist, knuckles stark white. "I know," he proclaimed, the angry sound of his teeth grinding together making her shudder – _she hated that sound_.

Choosing to insert himself in the conversation, John inquired, "Am I missing something?"

Tentative, not knowing if the younger teen would rebuff her effort to console him, Snow moved to touch his arm, "I'm sorry, Jeremy."

"You're not the one who owes me that apology, Snow." One corner of his mouth crept upward in a crooked smile as he slowly instigated eye contact, "You didn't agree with Elena. Told her one day she'd come to regret having me compelled." Upon her look of confusion, he smirked ruefully, "I read Elena's diary."

Torn between disapproval and amusement, Snow ignored both and went with her gut, "To play devil's advocate here Jeremy, Elena did have the best intentions. She didn't want you to remember Vicki that way and her death, so soon after your parents-" she grimaced, head shaking in sorrow, "-I'm not saying what she did was right. 'Cause it's not. Memories are precious; it's never okay to erase someone's memory. But, Elena _loves you_, and she did what she thought was the right at the time. Don't give her too much of a hard time when you admit to her you know everything."

Jeremy responded with a stubborn set to his jaw, looking away again. Sighing desolately to herself, she turned to acknowledge John, who had been suspiciously silent throughout their tête-à-tête which, admittedly, was extremely odd. While she never had a close relationship with John compared to the other adults, he had still been a fixture in her life. Therefore, she knew the reason he was disliked by many, was his blatant comments, the man shamelessly speaking his mind, irregardless of whose feet he stepped on, which had him coming off as unbearable and insensitive.

Turning failed to capture his sapphire gaze, his attention riveted by something below her neck. Confused, her dark brows knitting a deep furrow into her forehead, Snow followed the trail of his engrossed stare, going past her chest and freezing on her arm, her heart performing a painful stutter.

Grotesque against the ivory skin of her upper arms were twin tattoos of a mottled pinkish-red ink, showcasing the perfect outline of a pair of hands, and due to the enhanced strength a vampire possessed, the bruises proceeded to darken at an alarming rate.

Uncomfortable, the ache no longer numbed by adrenaline, Snow winced and rushed to cover them up, but the damage was already done. An odd glint flickered past John's eyes, "That looks quite painful." He would make an excellent actor. Spurred by his uncle's observation, Jeremy emitted a loud exhale, "_Christ_ that looks bad, we should put ice on it or something."

An artificial smile pulled at her lips and she shrugged a shoulder in forced nonchalance, "It looks worse than it is," When horror lingered in Jeremy's doe eyes, her smile became more genuine, "_Really_. Don't worry about it. It's just a bruise, it'll heal up in no time."

Unbeknownst to Snow, she had fallen prey to the cunning trap John laid out for her.

"Coming from experience," John was abrupt, suspicion practically radiating from his pores. At her questioning look, he elucidated, "You had similar bruises the day before the pageant. And yet, when I saw you next, it was gone… almost like it disappeared overnight." Snow fidgeted on the ground, subtly seeking Jeremy's warmth in an effort to relieve the tension obnubilating her. Sapphires flashed and narrowed, "You're not foolish to guzzle vampire blood-"

Stricken, Snow almost betrayed her secret with a sudden exclamation, "_No_! Of, of course _not_. I-I, I'm not a vain girl, Mr. Gilbert. I wouldn't _do_ that." Too late, Snow realized, from the self-satisfied smirk on the older man's face, that he _tricked_ her, and she mentally chastised herself. She frowned, "That, that wasn't very nice, Mr. Gilbert."

"I'm sorry, Snow. I don't like using manipulation as a tactic, especially with children, but I need answers." And he wasn't lying, Snow couldn't sense a sliver of sorrow or guilt from John Gilbert, merely frustration, desperation and self-righteousness. Snow looked away, arms folded in a petulant manner and a moue of disapproval marring her visage. "That's why everyone calls you a buttface," she huffed, her words encouraging a snort out of Jeremy, his expression brightening. "I promised Uncle Logan I wouldn't tell you. And I don't break my promises."

Rolling his eyes in an odd combination of fond irritation, Jeremy spilled the beans as, while Snow _did_ disagree with Elena, she didn't try hard enough and a small vindictive part of him wanted some form of payback for the removal of the last memory he had with Vicki. "She has some weird healing ability."

Blonde brows nearly crashed into his hairline, and John burned a hole through the raven-haired girl, intense fascination warring with horror and suspicion.

Gasping loudly, Snow threw Jeremy a wounded look, "_Traitor_!" Then, in a comical fashion, she did a double take, "Wait, _how _did you know _that_?"

"Like I said, I read Elena's diary."

A deep vee formed between her brows, "I don't like you right now, Jeremy. You're not being nice." And not waiting for the younger teen to retort while batting off the mild guilt wafting from him, she focused on the vampire hater. "It's unreliable," she explained grudgingly. "Like when I was attacked in December? The external wound healed, like scarring and such. But I was still injured internally. When Jo-, uh, when I _fell_-" she poorly masked her blunder, and if John's darkening expression was any indication, he wasn't buying her atrocious excuse, "-while the bruise went, my arms still felt sore." Portraying behavior extremely uncharacteristic for the demure, soft-spoken girl, Snow defiantly met his gaze, "_There_. You happy? Now you'll have something significant to report back to my father."

To her surging annoyance, John steadily stared back at her, wholly unaffected by her blatancy or at having his duplicitous nature aired out in the open. On the other hand, Jeremy threw Snow a weird look, "Uh, are you okay, Snow?" Genuine concern colored his boyish features and he slid closer, "Maybe you hit your head when you were thrown-"

Quick as a whip, Snow retaliated, hand reaching out and smacking Jeremy's away, "What _are_ you doing!?"

"Checking to see if you have a concussion, _obviously_," he retorted.

"Well you can relax, I _don't_."

"It's either that or you've lost your marbles, 'cause your Dad's been dead for _years_."

"Well, _apparently not_!" Skepticism flickered across Snow's face and an eyebrow jumped a pinch, "Didn't you say you violated Elena's privacy…"

Defensive, his expression turned mulish, "I didn't _violate _anything. I was mostly interested in the supernatural aspects, okay? I didn't read _everything._"

Deciding to step in and break the hostility between them, John shouted for silence. And then, a most shocking occurrence to date took place. Face contorted with malice, Snow spun around to face John and hissed, "You're _not_ my father! _You _don't get to tell me _what to do_!"

The entire atmosphere of the room changed at her outburst. A set of chocolate and sapphire eyes stared back at her in profound surprise, vehemently taken aback by the alien contortion of her soft features and the heavy dose of vitriol in her tone. For his part, Jeremy was rendered speechless by Snow's mannerism; he may not be as close to her compared to Elena, but Jeremy _did_ grow up with the girl and Snow Silverstone did not possess a mean bone in her body, because if she did, then Lucille and the Styne twins would never have gotten away with their abhorrent treatment of her.

After what seemed like forever, but in all actuality was ten seconds of shocked silence, a sharp intake of breath left Snow. Eyes blown wide, she clapped both hands over her mouth. Tongue-tied, all Snow could do was shake her head repeatedly, tears welling in her eyes and spilling down her face.

John slid closer, "Snow—"

"_Oh my God_!" she exclaimed, finding her voice. "I-I, oh _God_! I'm so sorry. I-I don't know what came over me. I didn't mean it, I-I _promise_. What-, what's happening to me?" she moaned, burying her face into her knees.

Summoning composure, John closed the distance between himself and Snow and ran both hands down her arms in an attempt to instill calmness in her. "I know you didn't. It's your empath abilities, Snow. It's not you. You can't control it yet. It's alright. Come on, take deep breaths. It's alright," he cooed; as Snow obeyed him, he found the situation surreal. Never having had the chance to be a father, here he sat, comforting a girl like only a father could and the guilt he kept buried deep inside broke free from its vault. _Her father_ should be here, taking care of her, delivering words of comforts and promising that everything will be okay. Not him.

"H-_How_?" she let out a strangled cry, sucking the pair of sapphire into her enthralling hold. "None of you are feeling hatred. You, Jeremy, neither of you are dripping with, with _malice_." It couldn't be Cherie or Franck as, not only were they keeping guard outside, but Isobel's compulsion made them completely apathetic. Releasing herself from his soothing grip, albeit grudgingly, Snow hurried to her feet and mumbled a quick, "I need the bathroom."

Barricading herself in the polished guest bathroom, Snow opened the faucet and splashed water onto her face. Blindly reaching for the nearest towel, Snow vigorously rubbed her face and subsequently tossed it aside. Hands shaking terribly, she clutched the marble counter in a vice grip, her knuckles whitening, and dropped her head between her shoulders, heaving a quivery exhale.

"It's okay. Everything's going to be _okay_… breath in, and out. One, two, three, in. One, two, three, out… breath in, breath out—"

Violet eyes collided with her reflection and her heart promptly stopped before it leapt to her throat. Soulless eyes bore into her, the white of its sclerae decayed to a dull gray; matted hair styled in a milkmaid braid framed an indiscernible face, its face rancid and skin necrotic. In the span of a heartbeat, panic oozed into her bloodstream, cold and shocking and paralyzing. Her fist flew into her mouth to muffle a scream, the speed and strength of the act prompting her teeth to cut the inside of her mouth, the metallic taste of blood heavy on her tongue.

Whirling around, Snow was met with empty air.

* * *

There was a gathering at Logan's place, the atmosphere fraught with tension.

Running as fast as her short feet allowed her, the moment Davina stopped by their booth at the Grill, expression pale and heart beating thunderously against her ribcage, out of breath and eyes blown wide with panic, Logan's blood turned to ice and he knew something happened to Snow. The predator, the _bloodthirsty monster_, buried inside roared loudly in the recess of his head, itching to tear at its shackles and be set free.

The composed countenance Danica portrayed, her hand on his arm infusing calmness into his skin, and the fact he was in a public area, helped Logan recover his usual sangfroid, allowing him to think clearly and banish any and all macabre thoughts of decapitation and heart extraction.

Tossing a twenty on the table, absentmindedly leaving a hefty tip to the lucky waitress fortuitously assigned to their table, Logan gathered Davina in his arm and ushered Danica outside, placing a call to Damon the split-second he started the car and demanding, in no uncertain terms, to meet them at his house.

Naturally, Damon arrived swiftly, toting Elena, Stefan and Bonnie along, the latter of whom was practically frothing at the mouth at the sight of Danica. However, seeing Davina peeking behind her mother's legs, blue eyes wide with fright, Bonnie's expression softened and her lips, which were parted to catapult some rude '_you're not welcome here_' remark, snapped shut.

Taking charge of the situation, Danica morphed into hard-headed witch mode, her stance slightly intimidating, "Logan, I need you to get me something of Snow's and a strand of—"

"Put your cauldron away, witchy. There won't be any need for a locator spell," Damon interjected smoothly, his glib tone contrasting heavily with his serious demeanor. "Back when, and here I plead temporary insanity, I gave Isobel a few tips, sort of like an introductory chapter to Vampire 101. She's staying at the most expensive foreclosure in town."

A deep frown settled on Elena's face, uncertainty evident, "And you know this _how_?"

Sharing the brunette's hesitance, Logan, his composure still miraculously intact, inclined his head sharply, "Doesn't seem smart, following your tutorial when you're around to sniff her out."

"Didn't you learn _anything_ from our powwow with the tomb vampires? The bad guys _aren't _smart," Damon scoffed, eyes rolling aggressively in their sockets and mouth curving into a sarcastic smile. Stares stabbing his form, unwilling to take his word for it, he huffed in irritation, "Must I spell _everything_ out for you? I paid Isobel a visit earlier." Sensing Stefan's judgmental stare, he smirked, unapologetic and matter of fact, "Oh come on, couldn't let her carry on with her nefarious plans without getting threatened by me, could I."

Employing extreme sarcasm, Logan drawled out, "Course not, 'cause that'll be a tragedy."

Mockingly, Damon brandished a hand toward Logan, electric blue eyes piercing his baby brother, "_See_, he gets it."

"Now that we're done wasting time with trivial nonsense, I'm gonna go get Snow and Jeremy." Logan made to move to the door, only to pause and incline his head softly at Danica right before his intense eyes fixated on the eldest Salvatore, "Danica, Damon, with me."

Almost instantaneously, bedlam erupted. In fact, the eleven-year-old girl displayed the most mature reaction, simply standing in her spot, tearful blue eyes glued to her mother in worry and terror. A sharp whistled pierced the air – courtesy of Logan – silencing the noisy trio. Sending him a grateful look, Danica engulfed her daughter in a tight embrace. She softly pinched her chin and smiled, "Davvy, baby why don't you go watch TV, yeah? Before you know it, I'll be back."

"_Promise_?" Davina's voice shook and she scrunched her eyes shut, prompting a lone tear to squeeze out and travel its way down her face.

Once Davina grudgingly traveled deeper into the house and thus, officially out of earshot, the television blaring in the background, Logan leveled the trio with his most stern glare, a foreign expression for the journalist whose defining characteristics were usually laidback, flirtatious, playful and equanimous, among others. "Why must we do this _all the time_," he huffed to himself. Dragging a hand down his face, he met Elena's defiant stare, "Princess, we're going to pay your birth mother a visit. You come along, never mind the fact you'd be a liability and easy prey for Isobel or either one of her flying monkeys, keeping you safe will become my distraction, and I need to focus on getting my goddaughter and your brother out of there, _capish_?"

Another nod of obedience from a grudging girl was his response. With a sigh, Elena backed off, her smile rueful and eyes wide with desperation, "But you get them to me safe, Logan. Okay? Including _yourself_."

"_Pssht_," Logan playfully waved a hand and winked. "You got nothin' to worry about on that front, Princess. I got tricks up my sleeves you cannot imagine." Attitude a mix between solemn and mirth, he arched a brow at Stefan, "You just got paroled last night, Stef. Take a break. Besides, regardless of the invitation policy, I'd feel much better leaving knowing these three pretty ladies are under your protection."

Stefan rolled his eyes, though his lips twitched in amusement at the frustrated noise Damon generated, "No need to boost my ego, Logan."

Then, all eyes fell on Bonnie, silently seething and her arms tightly folded in indignation.

"Bonnie, John and Isobel are after a device _your_ ancestor spelled," Logan prefaced, deciding to go for the more pragmatic approach to abate the fire in her eyes. "As a Bennett, that's your jurisdiction. I need you _here_, finding answers in that nifty grimoire Emily left behind. I _know_ Snow's your friend, but her safety, _all_ of our wellbeing, is more important than wounded pride, no?" he concluded with an air of calmness, the seriousness in his gaze and his cutting words making Bonnie shift awkwardly and avert the pair of intense hazel eyes.

A silvery voice picked up where Logan's subtle dressing-down left off, cat-like emerald holding hazel-green eyes, "This is _personal_ to me. That…_woman_ threatened my daughter." The state of forced calm Danica radiated didn't quite conceal the anger boiling inside her. "Therefore, _I_ am the one that will be teaching her a _lesson_: _never_ threaten a mother's child, especially not a witch's, 'cause a witch's retribution is legendary."

Suffice to say, Bonnie, horrified at the disclosure, stepped down _immediately_, her head bowed in apology. For her part, Elena bit her tongue and looked away, tears in her eyes at the monstrosity her birth mother was capable of. _Vampire_ wasn't an explanation; to Isobel, becoming one was simply a ticket to freedom, allowing her to act out her sinful desires.

Inserting flippancy, traditional smirk pulling at his lips, Damon clapped Logan on the back, "Like I said before, you're in charge of the parenting here."

Halfway out the door, while Danica rolled her eyes at his… _completely expected _behavior, Logan snarkily said, "You can't help it, can you? Always gotta run your mouth off."

* * *

Rapping her blunt fingernails in a specific rhythm on the cold hardwood floor, Snow hummed the upbeat tune to Amy Adam's Happy Working Song, the lyrics percolating in the recess of her head. Despite banking on the merry song to instill happiness and cheer and eliminate her gloomy state, violet eyes continuously flickered across the room, brushing past every nook and cranny and adamantly avoided the mirrors. Basically, the teenager was a ball of nerves, her paranoia skyrocketing.

The constant tapping drilling into his ear getting unbearable, Jeremy disappeared upstairs to snoop around, leaving John to stare at the raven-haired girl in contemplation, a calculating glint in his bright eyes. "You're spooked," he finally spoke up, sounding like he was stating a fact. And he was. From the very moment she returned from the bathroom, Snow would jump at the slightest sounds and her eyes appeared as though they were taped wide, violet irises flickering in a random tempo around the house.

"Uh, no. Just, just _nervous_," she let out an awkward laugh that was positively cringe-worthy. "I mean, it's perfectly normal. I've been kidnapped by a-a vampire."

With the exception of emitting a skeptical noise, John maintained his silence, though his stare didn't waver from her form, not even for a second, studying…_analyzing_ her.

Suddenly, violet eyes slammed into his sapphire ones, her expression set in determination which wholly took John aback, her cyclonic emotions a cause of immense confusion. "Does he know?" she was met with a cocked head, arched eyebrows and more silence. Licking her lips, Snow cleared her throat, "My Dad. Does he-, is he aware of the way Lucille treats me…?"

Potent sorrow and guilt lashed at her, although John's exterior looked as impassive as ever. Tilting his head back, sapphire gems penetrated the chandelier directly above him, and after emitting a long-drawn-out sigh, John sought her gaze, "No."

That response, consisting of one word, one syllable, two letters, and spoken in such a matter of fact tone, prompted a tightness in Snow's throat and tears prickled her eyes, but with a gargantuan effort, she held them back. Relief and grief warred against each other; though relief was winning. In her opinion, her father knowing about her abuse and not caring was so much worse than him abandoning her because… despite his abandonment, Snow could at least pretend her father cared.

Absentmindedly, Snow realized John was contributing an explanation. "To risk you hating me more so-" sighing, John rubbed his eyes and wearily met the ravenous expression on her visage, "-I am your father's only bridge to Mystic Falls and I, I chose to keep him in the dark about your situation," he admitted with a steady gaze.

"_Why_?" she whispered, a pair of tears racing down her face.

Sadness spread over his features, the sentiment extremely brief, "Because I knew he would drop _everything_ and come back, which would defeat the purpose of faking his death." Snow's scoff of disbelief rang loudly in the air. A sandy blonde brow snapped upward and John pursed his lips in disapproval, not particularly accepting of her line of thoughts. Scooching over to be nearer to the girl, John, back of fingers underneath her chin, tilted her head up so she could discern the truth in his eyes, "Listen to me, Snow. I can't tell you much about your father, not his reasons or the necessity of faking his death. But what I _can _tell you…the hardest thing he _ever_ had to do, was leave you. Your father _loves_ you."

She was lanced by a whip of bitterness, and instead of softly inquiring about the source of his knowledge, she emitted a snarky zinger, "Is this instinct from one absentee father to another?" No sooner were the words regurgitated did Snow gasp and slap a hand to her mouth.

John recoiled back, releasing her as though he had been burned. She ducked her head as shrewd eyes seared into her. Finally, he dryly stated, "You know."

"I'm _so _sorry! I didn't mean to eavesdrop, _I swear_!" Snow implored him, eyes tearful and wide. "But, Isobel was just _so loud_, and-, she, well, she said something along the lines of how easily manipulated you are when it comes to your daughter and well… that you'd, you'd do everything possible to obtain the device and get rid of the vampires to keep Elena safe and I just, I put one and one together," she sheepishly lifted a shoulder.

He pursed his lips, "I see…"

Uncomfortable, Snow shifted and nervously ran a hand down her upper arm, wincing at the pain Isobel's handprint generated. The air around them crackled with uneasiness; John knew he couldn't ask Snow to keep his secret as not only was she Elena's best friend, but it wasn't it the raven-haired girl's nature to be deceitful, especially regarding this sensitive topic…especially after discovering the truth about her own father.

"I don't hate you," Snow blurted out, desperate to break the tension and fill the gap between them just as Jeremy descended the stairs. John's eyebrows tipped upward and he gave her a questioning stare. "You said… earlier. I never hated you. I just don't agree with your methods and I don't quite understand all this hatred you're holding onto."

Arranging himself into a lotus position on the floor beside Snow, Jeremy repeated the explanation his uncle fed him while she was in the bathroom, "Apparently my Dad taught him vampires were evil."

Lower lip jutting out, Snow swished her head in disapproval, "See, I don't get that. People, they inherit money, estates, heirlooms, not prejudice. Uncle Logan's a Fell, he was educated at a young age to hate them, that vampires were heartless monsters. And look at him. He's a vampire with an amazing heart, who ensures my protection and the town's. He's capable of distinguishing between right and wrong."

At the mention of Logan, John's expression darkened, his eyes flinty, "It's complicated."

"I don't think it is. I think it stems from Isobel—"

"Are you psychoanalyzing me behind my back? That's rude," the bone-chilling, dark voice echoed in amusement and with a gasp, Snow whirled around. The moment her eyes connected with emotionless green ones, the dark void settled around her once more, its clutches suffocating. High heels resonating, Isobel sauntered closer, a dark smirk on her lips, "Well? Don't be shy. I'm curious to know what my _darling_ daughter's best friend thinks of me. Good impressions and all."

Instead of feeling terrified of Isobel's close proximity, Snow's heart fluttered and joy enveloped her, slowly crushing the dark abyss that's been threading itself into her heart, mind and soul. Gently extricating herself from Jeremy's warning grip, and disregarding the warning in John's eyes, Snow clambered onto her feet and thrust her chin out in false confidence, "Stefan once told me that human personalities become magnified after transforming into a vampire. I think you were a selfish coward as a human, and as a vampire, those traits intensified. You didn't care about your husband, your daughter, your best friend, the loved ones you'd be leaving behind… you wanted to become a vampire so you became one. Then, instead of facing the music, instead of-, instead of learning how to live with yourself with all the new fancy upgrades and a diet of blood, you chose the coward way out and turned off your emotions."

Evidently, maintaining her apathetic disposition was a herculean effort for Isobel. Fast and furious, Snow found herself pinned to the wall, a hand enclosing her neck in its steely grip, and her snarling face inches from hers, fangs elongated and sclerae a menacing crimson. Her airway constricted, Snow clawed at the hand, to no avail. Eyes flickering anxiously around the room, from over Isobel's shoulders, she clearly saw Franck and Cherie holding the Gilberts back, though their hold was weakening. "Listen to me, _little girl_. I don't care if exposure to my presence magically gives you a backbone, but one more time you disrespect me, I'll rip your pretty little head off, _got it_?" she spat, her tongue practically dripping with venom.

Suddenly, the vampire released her, hands clutching at her temples while she screamed in agony. Exhaling and inhaling heavily, Snow ignored the painful aneurysms, recognizing it as Bonnie's attack against Stefan, as familiar arms embraced her. Face buried in a muscled chest, she breathed in Logan's distinctive scent, tears of happiness and relief streaming down her face as she fisted her hands into his shirt. "Uncle Logan!" she cried out.

"My brave girl," Logan chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Hazel eyes roved her form in concern, darkening at her neck and arms. As though a light had been flipped, mischievous loving godfather morphed into murderous predator and, without another word, he gently deposited her into Damon's arms, his eyes also darkening at the marks tattooed on her body.

Logan angrily stalked toward Isobel's kneeling form, an equally enraged Danica matching him step for step, not letting down on the relentless magical aneurysms.

Scoping her surroundings, Damon's handiwork met her eyes, the compelled humans unconscious by John and Jeremy's feet and her heart swelled – two months ago, Damon Salvatore would have marked them as collateral damage and drained them dry. The improvement in Damon and the germinating compassion filled Snow with extreme joy.

"You dared lay a hand on _MY_ goddaughter!" Logan hissed acrimoniously, voice dark and tone vitriolic. Danica must have released her for Isobel regained her haughty demeanor, returning Logan's glare in kind. Her lips parted to speak, Logan shoved a hand into her chest, squeezing the organ and encouraging a high-pitched scream. Snow tightened her grip on the hem of Damon's shirt but otherwise maintained composure, only reaching out to stop John when he shot forward to, most probably, speak on Isobel's behalf. She sadly shook her head – "_I guess love really is blind…_"

Grinning wickedly at the smidgeon of fear caressing her face, Logan snarled, "You can relax. I'm not going to kill you… _today_. You don't know how _lucky_ you are for having Elena as a daughter. 'Cause if not for my affection for her, I'd have killed you where you stand without blinking and then slept like a baby."

Stepping closer, Danica loomed over the kneeling vampire, her lip curled in disgust, "You _threatened_ my daughter. She's _eleven_ you psychotic _bitch_!" Induced by rage, the Cajun accent in her silvery voice became conspicuous.

Foolishly abandoning the famed trait of self-preservation innate in the women of her line, Isobel spat blood at the incensed witch, "If I had known the little twerp was a witch, I wouldn't have been so merciful."

_SLAP!_

Quick as a whip, Danica's hand impacted with the vampire's face. "I'm a Claire, _bitch_. Watch it! You know _nothing _about the reputation that precedes my family, go ask your whore-in-crime Katherine Pierce, let her tell you how very _stupid _you've been for incurring _my_ wrath!"

"This is what you're going to do," Logan growled, taking control of the situation. "You're going to pack your bags and leave town. And if you _so much as_ _touch_ a single hair on Snow's head, I'll see to it myself the next time you see the sun rise, you'll be burning beneath it," throwing her a hateful sneer, Logan released the organ, withdrew his bloody hand and consecutively, snapped her neck.

As Isobel's lifeless form slumped to the ground and Snow hurled herself into Logan's embrace, Jeremy's eyebrows jumped and he couldn't prevent the exclamation that tumbled out of his lips, "That was _badass_!"

* * *

For weeks now, guilt had been the main emotion plaguing her conscience, the feeling stitched in her core and a constant weight on her shoulders. Her abhorrent treatment of Elena and Snow, and unfairly upbraiding Logan Fell for the transition that was forcibly thrust upon him consumed her with self-hatred. After the incident that occurred with Snow the previous week and experiencing for herself the lengths Logan – and Damon, as her mind _grudgingly_ reminded her – went through to protect Snow and keep her safe, a protection that wasn't limited to the kind-hearted girl, but extended to herself and Elena, she truly believed she had learned her lesson and moved past the hatred and bitterness that cemented within her.

Then, Isobel came crawling out of the woodwork and regardless of her true intentions, desired the Gilbert invention spelled to simultaneously incapacitate a bevy of vampires. _Again_, disregarding the black-hearted vampire's purpose, whether it was genuine or sinister, a form of protection against the tomb vampires that had been wreaking havoc on the town was presented to her, and she couldn't, in good conscience, allow them to roam free, not when her grandmother's efforts to keep them entombed resulted in her death.

And so, when Elena approached her with a recently concocted plan, one which ensured Isobel stayed gone by handing over the Gilbert device, it created contention with Damon. However, there was a catch… That _she_ eliminate the magic her ancestor imbued it with. The blunt refusal was on the tip of her tongue, _until_ Damon strongly suggested they get Logan on board and convince Danica to unspell the device as, while she made it perfectly clear she wouldn't be at their beck-and-call, with Logan's life in danger, the Claire witch would be the first to offer her services.

_That_ smarted.

Against her own volition, her mouth began to move, professing an agreement to perform the spell. But when it came down to it, she _couldn't do it_. She just…_couldn't._ Performing flamboyant magic that a five-year-old could do, she handed the device to her best friend and blatantly lied over how it was now considered useless junk. And thus, she sentenced not just Damon, but _Stefan_ to death… _and Logan_.

Guilt festered, surging to epic proportions and becoming a permanent blemish on her conscience.

"I did something bad, Caroline, and I lied about it."

Confused, the blonde cocked her head, "To who?"

"To Elena," she enunciated slowly, her tongue a heavy muscle in her mouth. "I pretended to do something I _didn't really _do."

Glancing over her shoulder warily, Caroline promptly leaned forward, eyes alight with curiosity and a hint of trepidation, "What are you talking about?"

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Bonnie nervously licked her lips and confessed, her tone grave and eyes conflicted, "I couldn't do what she wanted me to do. It wasn't right. Grams would have _never_ done it, so I couldn't either. But-" eyes clenched shut and when they reopened, guilt shone through, "-when Elena and Snow find out, they're _never_ gonna forgive me."

* * *

Like snowflakes, a vast array of stars dotted the boundless canopy of ink, blanketing the colorless cemetery and the only living soul within in darkness.

Dark, the only notion of brightness came from the half-moon and the smattering of lamplights scattered far and wide. Dull, the lackluster place, outlined with tombstones, portrayed a monotonous assemblage of grays, whites and blacks, for even the greenery bore no exception as it withered concurrently with the wintry night, it lacking luster and a healthy sheen, a morbid personification of the dead in which it germinated around.

At the Mystic Falls Cemetery, a particular plot of massive size was reserved for generations of a most prestigious, powerful and affluential family, all of whom had been laid at rest for centuries. Recent additions in the past decade and a half were a pair of headstones denoting husband and wife, and standing before them was a figure, her black beret, coat and boots, and navy denim jeans blending with the encompassing darkness.

Despite her somber mood, she infused minimal color in her family plot. Atop the grave with the inscription '_Selene Silverstone_' laid a bouquet of sunflowers, the vibrant yellow and her luminous violet eyes a deep contrast to the surrounding dullness.

The harsh bite of the chilly wind soaking through her coat seeped into her skin. The blood coursing through her veins ran cold and her bones were chilled. The frigid wind blowing past her at the late hour of this wintry night assailed the thick shield of tweed that enveloped her upper body and evoked spasmodic full-body shivers. However, in spite of the bitterly cold February weather, she stood rooted to the spot.

After the day… the week… _the months_ of endless unrest and death-defying situations, on top of her hunted status, she needed a moment of respite without anyone hovering around anxiously or in concern. Leaving her Manor, five minutes of aimless wandering later, the cemetery, she decided, was the perfect destination. So, after purchasing a bouquet of her mother's favorite flower and trekking her way there, she sought solace in her family plot and allowed the silence to engulf her, unmoving from her spot despite the elapsing of hours and the biting wind.

A place of reflection, the quiet helped compartmentalize which emotions belonged to her and which didn't. And, for the first time since _September_, she was capable of identifying her _own_ emotions with staggering clarity, cleansing the tampering of others' from her system, the incessant turbulent emotions of her surroundings no longer engendering alien behavior out of her. Here, amid generations of long departed family members, including her dear deceased mother, the time to ruminate without disturbance was available.

She bowed her head and closed her eyes, the long thick lashes that framed them weighing heavily on her eyelids. A lone tear traced her cheekbone, its warmth causing friction against her ice-cold skin; since her arrival, she made it a point to adamantly avoid sneaking even a _glimpse_ at the tombstone neighboring her mother's. To no avail. There was no stopping the inscribed name from getting seared into her peripheral… and everything came crashing down. She sank to her knees and pressed her forehead to the cold earth under which her mother's decomposing body lay six feet down, beside her father's _empty_ coffin.

A strangled cry exploded from her as the thin thread wound around her repressed emotions unraveled.

"_How_!? _How could you leave me all alone_! _Why_! Why would you _leave me_!?" Snow screamed, clenched fists pounding into the earth without mercy. "You don't _leave behind_ those you claim to love. I'm your _daughter_! You left me _with monsters_, _why_!? _WHY_..." furious words wrought with heartbreak and feelings of insufficiency trailed off, her low self-esteem rearing its large head again. "Was I-, was I _not enough_… not _good enough_ for you? What did I do to drive you away? Daddy, _please_…please come back to me. _Please_…"

Echoes of the raven-haired girl's wails of sorrow and keens of heartbreak resonated in the air and, unbeknownst to her, her profound emotions discharged an overwhelming blast of power throughout the expansive cemetery, all the way out the ancient wrought-iron arching gates.

Suddenly, an impressed whistle pierced the air and the blatant crunch of feet on grass cut into the silence. Gasping in surprise, before Snow could arrange herself into a less vulnerable position, a set of merciless hands gripped her arms and her body was promptly pulled flush against a lean chest, coarse breathing that was distinctly masculine fanning her ear. "Now _that's_ a powerful cry, babe."

Her heart nearly stopped at the voice and her entire body went cold. "_Joshua_," unadulterated fear laced his name and her pulse started to pound against her temples. She squirmed in his vice grip, but she was well and truly stuck. "_Let_ me go, pl-please. You're, you're sc-scaring m-me."

"Good! I'm done playing nice with your prudish ass," he snarled into her ear, his front teeth grazing her earlobe. She flinched away from him and his repulsive stench, which only succeeded in infuriating him, his impatience morphing into brutal hunger and rough treatment. At her stammered plea, he roared, "_SHUT UP_!"

An arm wound around her front, with his free hand, he harshly tugged off her coat, her beret landing over the bouquet of sunflowers and thus, engulfing her in darkness. He crouched into her, weighing her down into the ground and viciously grinding into her ass. Roughly, he ripped off her plain long-sleeved shirt into confetti before he palmed a supple breast while simultaneously sucking bruises into her bare shoulder. "No interruptions, we're _all alone_," a sinister chuckle collided with her abused shoulder. He then bit her earlobe until he tasted blood, "You made it _too easy_. I've been keeping watch on you and it's just _you _and _me_. So scream all you like, baby girl, no one's coming. Tonight, I'm gonna rip off that chastity belt once and for all, make you _mine_."

At the terrifying confession, Snow thrashed in his arms like a caged animal, wild and desperate. She screamed and cried and pleaded for help. But it was past midnight and the cemetery was devoid of people, and Joshua was _too_ strong, her efforts barely making a dent in him.

Try as she might, Snow could _not_ understand how she was capable of, unintentionally or not, obliterating a vampire, but whenever Joshua Reeves approached her with intentions of sexually harassing her, she was vulnerable and defenseless.

Snapping Snow out of her self-deprecating thoughts, Joshua forced her head around, eyes dark with lust trained on her lips. Automatically, she clamped them shut – no way was he about to steal _another _kiss from her – and struggled in his hold, her elbow bashing into his abdomen. He retaliated with such casual ease; with one hand, he grasped both of hers behind her back, nearly twisting her arms, and with the other, he cupped her face, forcing her eyes forward. "_No_," she whispered, eyes wide and frantic as she writhed. "_NO! LET GO OF ME! NOO!_"

His lips a hairsbreadth from devouring hers, the bottom half of her body flailed uselessly despite being crushed into the ground by most of his weight. Resignation stabbed into her, defeat merciless, and just when she believed nobody would come to her rescue, that Joshua would _rape her_, the sound of heavy rushed footsteps resonated through her and she screamed, "_HELP ME! PLE—_"

Enraged, Joshua backhanded her, the collision of skin on skin renting the air and intermingling with her pained yelp. "You _bitch_!" he snarled, obviously aware of the approaching figure. Hand aloft, poised to hit her again, he was suddenly flung into the air, body rotating swiftly, before he slammed into a tombstone, the strength of the impact resulting in a crazing of the marble's surface.

Simultaneously, the lamplights exploded, cutting of any and all source of light.

Cold and scared, the darkness intensifying her vulnerability, Snow hugged herself, eyes scrunched shut and whimpers leaving her quivering lips. Harsh breathing drew nearer and a figure crouched before her. Sheer terror kept her rooted to her spot, but instead of unwanted touches or more pain, a fountain of light cascaded around her. Blinking at the outpour of brightness, Snow's mouth parted in awe at the oodles of balls of light that hovered around her.

"You alright?" the unfamiliar deep voice prompted her to recoil, crashing back to the present and the dangerous situation she had landed herself into. Violet eyes clashed with cobalt blue, the beautiful eyes of the stranger that came to her aid scrutinizing her in concern. Gasping in remembrance, she frantically searched for Joshua. "The dirty rat got away," he grunted, ostensibly furious at Joshua's escape.

Relieved, Snow's posture lost most of its tension and she carefully took in her surroundings, eyes gravitating back to the balls of light overhead. Discerning the unwavering direction of her attention, the stranger commenced by formulating an excuse, but Snow, who had barely listened to a word he said, too awed by the blatant display of magic, breathed out, "You're a witch!"

The stranger shot her a suspicion-filled look, assessing her cautiously with a pair of brand new eyes. He originally wrote her off as an inconsequential defenseless damsel in distress who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Now, he believed he hastily prejudged her. Initially, he respectfully averted his eyes upon taking note of her state of undress, focusing on her ethereal eyes. Not so much anymore. Eyeing the cuts and bruises on her face, he pushed past the boundaries and raked her huddled form, narrowing in on the swelling around her neck and the handprints marring her arms. Calling on his years of experience and his boss's – and sometimes quasi-friend – violent tendencies, he easily deciphered the girl had been attacked earlier, to be precise, manually strangulated and manhandled by a vampire.

Sensing her discomfort at his intrusive inspection, he tore his gaze from her abused body and focused on her wary eyes, "And you're not just a normal girl." She sucked in a sharp inhalation of breath, her eyes growing a fraction wider. Staring at each other in stubborn silence ensued until he huffed, quelling an amused chuckle at the unexpected fire the girl possessed; tracing the ground, he leaned over, a hand reaching out, which prompted another shaky inhale from the girl, eyes swiftly following his movement. Dusting off her tweed coat, he wrapped it around her, shielding her from the frigid wind of the wintry night and preserving her modesty.

Taken aback by the stranger's kindness – which in retrospect, shouldn't have come as a surprise as he _did_ save her from getting raped – Snow sighed, the stiffness of her form softening, at the mild warmth that enshrouded her. More certain than ever the man meant her absolutely no harm, Snow _properly_ looked him over. Despite the stern expression he donned which seemed like a constant, the witch was devastatingly handsome with cobalt blue eyes, a patrician nose, prominent cheekbones, a strong jaw, full lips and a cleft chin, dark brown hair cropped short. Lowering her gaze, he had a brawny figure, tall and well-built with defined muscles and broad shoulders.

All in all, he struck an intimidating figure.

More importantly, the man didn't raise any alarms. In fact, Snow felt an odd sort of kinship with him, her senses flaring to life, claiming he held no malicious intent toward her. Surprising him, her lips pulled into a kind smile, "I'm Snow."

"Snow?" he repeated slowly in slight disbelief. Full lips quirked into a crooked grin, "Maddox."

"I've never seen you in town before… are you moving in?" Snow inquired curiously.

Helping her stand on her feet, Maddox plucked the beret and deposited it onto her head, the brilliant yellow standing out immediately atop the grave and capturing his attention, "No. Just passing through. Was checking on an…old acquaintance when I heard you scream."

Following the direction of his gaze to the bouquet of sunflowers, she smiled sadly and pulled the midriff of her coat together to generate warmth, "My mother loved sunflowers. I don't know much about her, she died when I was three, but her love for sunflowers is something I never forgot." Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears, "Sunflowers don't grow in the winter, but the town's florist has a friend who takes special orders and despite the weather, routinely delivers sunflowers for me. Half my earnings were spent on them but… it's worth it. For my Mom." A blush mounted on her cheeks that had nothing to do with the biting weather and she sheepishly burned a hole into the ground, "And I don't know why I told you all that."

A deep chuckle prompted her gaze to lift. His stern features looked mellower. "It's alright. I don't mind. However, I am interested to know how a sweet girl like you got involved with vampires." At her stricken expression, he smirked, "Did you already forget I'm a witch? Besides, the bruises on your arms and neck told me all I need to know. Looks intense." He hummed noncommittally.

"If you call my best friend's biological mother prancing into town and threatening the people I love left and right intense, then yeah, pretty much," she retorted, rubbing at her neck self-consciously.

Maddox's gaze flickered to the neighboring tombstone, the lack of flowers catching his eye, "No flowers for your father?"

And Snow did _not_ know why, despite having just made the witch's acquaintance, she wasn't greedy with information. A rueful smile and anguished eyes met his curious inquiry and while bitterness could be detected in her voice, it was delivered softly and coated in misery and a world of hurt, "There used to be… I recently found out he's been alive the whole time. Instead of abandoning me, he went out of his way to fake his death."

"Come, my car is just outside-" he gently began to steer her away from her family plot and onto the path leading to the arched gates, "-and you can tell me all about it while I take you home."

Approximately minutes after their departure, brilliant yellow weaved amid the rows upon rows of tombstones, spouting from jade vines which lifted from the earth of withered greenish-brown. Silky petals fanned widely, the brown center of the rapidly blooming sunflowers rising into the cold cemetery.

* * *

"_Hello?" Snow hesitantly called out into the encompassing darkness. When the silence ensued, she whimpered, "Not again."_

_Standing in the doorless, windowless, floorless, ceilingless void of blackness, Snow waited with bated breath for the being of pure evil with malicious yellow eyes to make an appearance, her form shaking with fear. Suddenly, a pale beam of light struggled into existence, shining a path for her to follow. "Please tell me this is the yellow brick road to Oz," she nervously murmured to herself._

_Head shaking, she took a step back instead of moving forward, terrified of what lay in wait. "You can do it, Snow. You __**are**__ brave." Steeling herself, Snow exhaled loudly and squared her shoulders – she didn't need to feed off of others' bravery. She __**is**__ brave. She __**could**__ do it!_

_Each step forward took a herculean effort but she finally reached the beam of light. Reaching forward, it spread, threads of light forming walls and ceilings and floors until Snow found herself in a gloomy, decrepit cabin, eyes staring in glaring disbelief at an achingly familiar man with dark blonde hair and jade-green eyes. "You're supposed to be dead," she whispered._

_Did this mean she was simply dreaming? …__**Of a serial killer?**_

_Pinned to the wall by some unseen force, all of a sudden, Dean Winchester grunted in pain, blood pooling from slashes that appeared on his chest. Forgetting this was a dream, forgetting she was most probably intangible, forgetting Dean was a serial killer – __**a murderer!**__ – Snow leaped forward, "No. No, no, no, __**no**__!" She made a frantic attempt to put pressure on the wound but, as expected, her hands went right through him._

_Resilient jade eyes lifted, looking right through her as he groaned, "Dad! Dad, don't you let it kill me!"_

"_Let __**who**__ kill you?" Snow shrieked, inspecting her surroundings frenetically. "I don't see anything!"_

_Stirring deep inside was a horrible feeling; her gut told her __**who**__… yellow-eyes. Snow was certain the being of pure evil was the 'it' Dean referred to. However, the blood gushing out of Dean's mouth distracted her from further contemplating the evil being's motive. And as though he stood at the end of a tunnel, Snow heard Sam's familiar voice, "Dean! __**No**__!"_

"_Dad, please," Dean choked out, voice thick with blood and tears, right before he passed out, head slumped forward and body still pinned to the wall._

_From a distance, a gunshot rent the air and Dean fell sideways onto the grimy floor, motionless._

_Relief encapsulated her and she threw herself beside the serial killer she, for some ungodly reason, felt protective over. Though just like before, her hands went right through him and darkness struck again, catapulting her back into the void of nothingness. "Not again," she groaned, trepidation wracking her as she waited in tenterhooks for what else her subconscious had in store for her._

_However, just as quick as the darkness enveloped her, it dissipated._

_The moonlight shone around her. Still positioned on the ground, Snow wasn't in the decrepit cabin, nor was Dean lying before her. She knelt in the middle of a single-track road, tarmac underneath her and shrubbery lined on either side. Suddenly, distant headlights grew nearer, slamming into her as a black car sped down the road…__**toward her**__. While aware the vehicle would pass right through her, survival instincts kicked in and she pushed herself off the tarmac, ready to jump out of the way—_

_Out of nowhere, an eighteen-wheeler crashed into the passenger side of the black car at full speed, the shocking and unexpected occurrence coinciding with Snow's ear-splitting scream. She went to run forward, but the semi continued driving the car off the road and darkness encompassed her once more._

_This time, the materializing illumination almost blinded Snow, LED lighting showcasing the hustle and bustle of a hospital, panic-stricken cacophonies, medical staff running around and patients being wheeled in from the automatic sliding doors of the wide entrance. Amidst it all, stood Snow, violet eyes wide and expression set in concern._

_Before confusion could fully settle in, the distinctive sound of somebody flatlining, a sound she had only ever heard in the movies, permeated the air. A doctor rushed into an adjacent room, a flock of alarmed nurses bringing up the rear and coming up the hallway from within another room was a downhearted Sam Winchester, a myriad of cuts littering his face._

_Joining Sam in the doorway, Snow watched with tearful eyes as the medical staff attempted to resuscitate __**Dean**__. A shapeless translucent presence floated above Dean and she reacted without thinking. Charging into the room, Snow yelled, "Get away from him! Leave him alone!"_

_Head snapping at her direction, empty sockets bore into her before the presence dissipated entirely from view. But before she could celebrate her victory and check on Dean, a matter of fact voice spoke from behind her, "You shouldn't be here."_

_A pretty woman in her mid-twenties with chestnut hair and light hazel eyes stood in the middle of the hallway, her uncanny emotionless stare drilling right through her. Hesitantly, Snow left the hospital room and approached the woman, head cocked, "You can-, you can __**see**__ me?" The woman however, maintained her silence and, after patiently waiting for a response and not getting any, Snow shook her head, under the impression it was a mere coincidence, "Wow, my dreams are getting stranger and stranger."_

"_This is no dream, aberration," sharp as a whip, the woman squinted at Snow, assessing her diligently like she was some bug under microscope. Flinching at the unkind moniker, eyes welling with tears that would not shed, Snow frowned, "This is __**my**__ dream. Go away!"_

_And for the first time since her appearance, the woman showed human emotion, indulging in an aggressive eye roll. "You're purposely acting dim. This is __**no**__ dream. This is a window into the future. __**Precognition**__," she emphasized at Snow's confusion. "At its early stage, of course."_

_Releasing a sharp intake of breath, Snow pivoted on her feet to stare at Dean's unconscious, bedridden form. "He's not going to die," she stated, her voice strong and laced with conviction. "I won't let it."_

"_It's his time to die. The Natural Order cannot be tampered with," the woman shrugged, palpably unconcerned. Disregarding her compassion toward a serial killer, Snow's eyebrows snapped together and she softly retorted, "You're not God. You do not have a say in who gets to live and die."_

_She was met with a withering glare, "Do not meddle in our affairs, aberration. I may not be God, but I __**am**__ a servant of Death. Dean Winchester's death is inevitable."_

_Forgetting herself for a moment, Snow gaped at the emotionless woman in awe, eyes sparkling, "You're a reaper…?"_

"_One of many," she responded in a clipped tone. "So you see, you don't have a choice, aberration. Wake up and forget about this."_

_Huffing, Snow turned her glare onto the rude reaper, "Stop calling me that! __**Why**__ do you call me 'aberration'. It's-, it's not nice. And very rude. You're hurting my feelings."_

_Eyebrows arched, a small smirk curled her lips, "Are you always so blunt and honest. I admit, it's a refreshing trait." Clearing her throat, she dipped her head, the gesture robotic, like the reaper wasn't used to her body or moving in general, "I didn't mean to insult. You're not supposed to be here—"_

"_Yeah, you said that. But since it's __**my**__ vision, it's __**you**__ who's not supposed to be here. __**Not me**__," Snow huffed petulantly, crossing her arms against her chest in a stubborn demeanor. Lips pursed, the reaper sorrowfully shook her head, "I do not mean __**here**__-" extended arms gestured at their current surroundings, "-I mean in existence. You are a deviation."_

_Tears fell freely down her face, staining her ivory complexion and she roughly brushed them off. "I don't like you. __**At all**__." Eyes flickering around, Snow came to a decision, "I'll show you. I __**do**__ exist. And Dean __**won't**__ die. Now __**shoo**__, you're not welcome in __**my**__ vision!" And without further ado, not even waiting for the offended reaper's comeback, Snow turned her back and ran off._

_Fueled by determination, Snow continued running until she reached the front desk, peering over to glance at the computer – __**3:01 A.M. February 24, 2010**__._

_Oh my God … Oh my God … Oh my God, repeated like a mantra in her head. She didn't have time to freak out; not only could she sense the reaper's approach, but she could feel consciousness awakening. Snow flounced past the entrance, feet stomping heavily against the ground as she ran like her life depended on it. However, a smile traced her petal-shaped lips as, despite the blurring of her vision, violet eyes hit their target, the name emblazoned in her mind: __**SSM Health St. Mary's Hospital**__._

"Snow? _Snow_… Come on, wake up. _Snoooww_," ice-cold hands tapped her cheek, lightly slapping the raven-haired girl awake. Groaning, violet eyes snapped open and Snow shot a completely unapologetic Elena a half-hearted glare, "Your hands are _freezing_, Lena."

Smirking, Elena's pajama-clad form jumped out of bed and she shoved her feet into a pair of hot-pink fuzzy slippers, "I _might have_ stuffed my hand in the freezer for a sec. _Maybe_ two." At the disbelieving stare she found herself at the receiving end of, mouth agape in emphasis, the brunette shrugged, an expression of utmost innocence coloring her visage, "_Whaat_? You weren't waking up and I'm _starving_. Logan made pancakes and bacon! So, chop-chop, up you get." She punctuated her demand with loud, obnoxious hand clapping.

Emitting an exaggerated lethargic groan, Snow purposely took her time to slide out of bed, eyes twinkling when the brunette huffed impatiently and tapped her foot against the floor. However, when Snow picked up her phone from the nightstand, and her eyes collided with the homescreen, all cheerfulness extinguished from her countenance, the time and date display prompting a sharp gasp from her lips.

Internal amusement fizzling out, Elena studied her friend in concern, "Snow?"

The dream-, _no, no,_ _vision! _swarmed the recess of her mind, evoking a sense of urgency in Snow, the color draining for her already pale complexion. Scrambling out of bed, haphazardly tossing aside the comforter tangled between her legs, Snow darted out the door and into the kitchen where the savory aroma of breakfast and coffee saturated the air, leaving both, her slippers and a bemused Elena in the dust.

"Uncle Logan! _Uncle Logan_!"

Heart in his throat, Logan abandoned his cup of coffee and evacuated his seat at the island, flashing in front of his goddaughter in half an instant. Firm hands on her shoulders, immensely concerned hazel eyes pinned Snow under their intense scrutiny from head to feet. She looked perfectly fine… healthy as a horse in fact, and wholly unblemished, the injuries inflicted upon her the week before having vanished in the span of twenty-six hours – a feat that confounded and similarly worried him. The fear in those pair of violets was real, indicating something had gone terribly amiss. Lifting his gaze upon detecting movement in his periphery, Logan captured Elena's confusion, a delicate shoulder shrugging in emphasis.

And then, Snow uttered four words that filled Logan with dread, "I had a vision!"

In the background, Elena spluttered, "Vision? You mean _nightmare_."

For a while now, a suspicion had been burgeoning in the recess of Logan's mind, and try as he might to discard the notion, it doggedly struck during bouts of restlessness, plaguing him with a vengeance and forcing him to contemplate a new venue in regards to Snow's multiplying abilities. Initially, the time Snow awoke in the middle of the night screaming hysterically about some being of pure evil with yellow eyes coming after her, wishful thinking fused with denial and Logan brushed it off as a vivid nightmare born out of fear of the assassin hunting her. Slowly, as the days passed by, suspicion arose and once news regarding the serial killer, Dean Winchester, was broadcasted all around, the second Snow identified him as the _same _Dean from her nightmare, his doubts bled into a strong theory. …That Snow's repressed emotions were _not_ manifested during her unconscious state, interpreted through night terrors; but that perhaps, they were _premonitions_…

Swallowing thickly, Logan cut into the debate between the best friends, Snow donning a frantic expression while Elena appeared torn between concern and cynicism, "Tell me about it."

Relieved her godfather was taking her seriously and hadn't dismissed her, Snow burst into speech, "…but I don't get it, I mean, according to the news and even your cop friend, Dean was shot dead."

Sheepish, Logan scratched under his chin. "_Right_, about that… it completely slipped my mind. I _did_ mean to tell you but with your coma and Isobel and _that bastard_-" venom coated the title, "-I forgot. He's alive. Don't ask me how," he raised both hands up. "When we were getting through that nest, I briefly saw him with his brother and Damon confirmed the names Dean and Sam, so…" he shrugged, nonplussed. "One thing I know for sure, he's not a vampire. According to Damon, he didn't even know _we_ were vampires."

"So what, he has an evil twin out there, and _that's_ who died? Are doppelgängers common?" Snow asked, blinking in bemusement. Elena, who had been oddly silent for the duration of their conversation, finally blurted out, shock profound on her visage and in her tone, "I'm sorry, am I the only one that can't get past the 'I spoke to a _reaper_' part?" Head shaking vigorously, she emitted a hysterical laugh, "Come _on_, that's… it's _unbelievable_. Snow, I don't know... I can come to terms with your precognition ability, _fine_. But the existence of reapers? Hell no."

Concealing a wan smile behind the rim of her mug, Snow shrugged – she hadn't been able to bring up the 'aberration' part, waist-deep in denial and secretly depressed about it, so she could understand and commiserate with Elena's disbelief; Snow herself disbelieved the reaper and her cruel revelation. Setting her mug down, Snow fixated her godfather and best friend with a solemn look, "It doesn't matter. What _does_ is Dean's probably gonna die, _tomorrow_. I can't let that happen."

"You're _not_ going to Jefferson City, Snow. _End _of discussion," Logan's tone brooked no argument and usually, Snow wouldn't dare think of arguing with her laidback godfather. But she could not, in good conscience, obey him in the face of a life and death situation – _literally_. It wasn't in Snow Silverstone's nature to _allow_ somebody to die, not when a chance was provided to prevent it from occurring. "I'm sorry, Uncle Logan. I-I can't accept that. I love you and I respect you, and outright disobeying you feels wrong. But…" her sight was blurred by an influx of tears, heavy drops cascading down her face. "I was _meant_ to see that. Don't you understand? My visions aren't random. The common denominator in both visions I received: the Winchester family, _especially_ Dean and Sam. When I freakishly teleported away, why would I land in a nest that family had been tracking? There's a connection. And I _cannot_ ignore it."

Inwardly conceding defeat, his thoughts eerily identical to Snow's impressive speech, Logan pushed his plate away and dragged a hand down his face. "I don't know, Snow. He's a murderer…" he was dragging his feet and he knew it.

A determined glint appeared in the entrancing pair of violet eyes. "Maybe, maybe not. I'm not God. I'm not gonna play judge, jury and executioner. Uncle Logan-" her eyes softened and she reached out to clasp his hands with both of hers, "-if Dean dies and I did _nothing_, I wouldn't be able to live with myself. You _know me_, Uncle Logan. You _know_ what it'll do to me."

A _whoosh_ of breath later, Logan grimly dipped his head; Snow was too pure, too kind, too compassionate. Saint or sinner, it didn't matter. Snow witnessed Dean Winchester on his deathbed, in critical condition and a '_reaper_' apparently put a bid on his life; doing nothing, allowing him to pass on into the afterlife… Snow would become inconsolable, blaming herself. "_Ugh_!" throwing his head back, Logan grudgingly vocalized his agreement. "_Fine_, I'll take care of it."

* * *

On the 24th of February, 2:30 AM, in St. Mary's Hospital in Jefferson City Missouri, two vampires stood concealed in the gathering shadows, taking it in turn to watch over a hospital room that had been assigned to a recently admitted patient by the name of Dean Winchester. His father, John Winchester, had been admitted as well, a few rooms over, but upon discovering the only ailment he was suffering from was a broken arm and a couple of fractured ribs, neither Logan nor Stefan gave him a second thought, their concentration fixated on his alleged serial killer son.

Call it morbid curiosity, but Logan resolved to lay in wait. According to Snow, the culmination of her vision occurred one minute after three. Therefore, there was a half hour window to gauge exactly how accurate his goddaughter's visions were; sometime in the next half hour, Dean's heart stopped and was consecutively resuscitated.

Needing to get back to Mystic Falls in time for Founder's Day in order to allay suspicion from Richard and John, and with a one day crunch time, commuting by car was impossible. Driving nonstop and following the I-64 route would take approximately fifteen hours. However, traveling the distance by plane would take two hours and so, that's the option the two vampires chose, allowing them to arrive at the hospital minutes after the Winchesters got admitted by _rescue helicopter_.

Initially, Logan opted for Damon to join him on the spontaneous trip to Jefferson City, however grudgingly, as the elder Salvatore had prior experience with the family and would easily recognize them. The confrontation with the brothers regarding the latest development resulted in Damon adamantly expressing his lack of sympathy to their plight, asserting in no uncertain terms his indifference to Dean dying – _"Snow, stop giving me the Bambi eyes. I like you. Really, I do. And I've already proven I'd do everything in my power to keep you safe… I mean, I __**did**__ willingly spend __**hours**__ in a car with a vampire I can__**not**__ stand, a trigger-happy Van Helsing 2.0, and a judgy witch who despises the ground I walk on, to get to you, of course that was __**not before**__ fighting a nest of weird vampires and then getting threatened by the very dickhead you want me to go save… Yeah. Na-uh. No can do. Sorry not sorry. If you were in trouble, I'd help in a heartbeat. But I don't care about some human who miraculously rose from the dead. You're not gonna get any sympathies from me. You're on your own on this one…"_

On the other hand, Stefan gladly offered his aid, his only condition being that they return for Founder's Day as he was expected to be on the float as Elena's escort. In retrospect, Logan felt relieved Damon refused as he tolerated Stefan more.

"Any news on Reeves?" Stefan murmured, following the insanely tall form of Sam Winchester as he flounced down the hallway, visage contorted with apoplectic rage, and disappeared into his father's room, the door slamming behind him.

Abruptly tearing his gaze from the recently shut door, Logan focused on a pair of equally incandescent forest green eyes. "_No_. The dirty bastard ran off. Skipped town. His parents are clueless and Liz is furious. She issued an APB, but nothing. I don't know how he managed to get far with a broken leg and ribs. That witch was certain he got _that rotten_ _bastard_ good," he growled, unnatural dark veins protruding under his eyelids. Exhaling and inhaling, Logan pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut, his head tilted up in an attempt to recover his composure. "I'm _still _trying to wrap my mind around the fact that this has been going on for _two years_. Two years and Snow hadn't spoken a word. If that witch hadn't been there-" he cut himself off, unable to entertain _what-if's_ and _could-have-been's_.

"Speaking of that witch… what do you make of him?" Stefan swiftly grabbed the opportunity and changed the topic; Logan needed to maintain composure and remain in control, at least until the hospital was placed on their rearview mirror. With three nonhuman haters in close proximity, it was necessary for Logan to be in his A game, especially with the ambrosia-like aroma of blood incessantly attacking Stefan's olfactory receptors. Logan's awareness was a requirement in case Stefan, God forbid, lost control.

The effort was a success.

Scoffing, Logan smirked ruefully while he fiddled with a syringe he managed to nab from a supply closet upon their entrance, "_My_ opinion of Maddox doesn't matter." Beautiful hazel eyes rolled in their sockets, "Snow trusts him. I swear, with the people she automatically hands over her trust to, I've got my work cut out for me. Exhibit A, your brother. B, Maddox. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm unequivocally grateful to him. He protected Snow when I couldn't and he ensured I was aware of what happened, but… I don't know, I'm not a fan of coincidences."

A brown brow tipped upward and Stefan chuckled, "Yeah, I get you. And about Damon, trust me… I don't really have much faith in him-, or _didn't_, but lately, I've been seeing a change in him. Snow brings out his humanity. He wouldn't do anything to hurt her and Damon's extremely protective to those he cares for."

"Don't mind me, Stef. I'm just being a grump," Logan sighed, tapping his lapis lazuli ring against the wall in a random beat. "Sometimes I miss my bachelor life… my _human_ life. I'd never regret Snow. Just, I wish I could take her with me. Away from the drama in Mystic Falls. Away from drama in general. And the supernatural."

Uncomfortable all of a sudden, Stefan forced his expression into one of nonchalance. "Speaking of Snow… do you believe her? About the…_reaper_," the volume of his voice dropped to a whisper, warily taking in his surroundings as though expecting the alleged being to lunge at him. At the amused quirk of Logan's lips, Stefan, hands tucked in his pockets, sheepishly stated, "Elena told me."

Rolling his shoulders, Logan mulled it over, "Honestly, I don't know. I mean, if a different species of vampires exist, why not reapers? Life with Snow, I'm beginning to think nothing's impossible anymore."

Stupefied, Stefan rearranged his standing position in order to properly face Logan, "You're saying you believe something other than vampires and witches exist out there?"

"_Eh_… I could be talked into the existence of werewolves." Good humor seemed to have returned to Logan; mischief twinkled in his eyes and a winsome grin colored his mouth, "Doesn't seem _that_ far off."

Suddenly, just like in Snow's vision, the flatlining of a heart monitor resonated loudly, their enhanced hearing instantly detecting the change in Dean's heartbeat before the monitor could. The medical staff stormed into Dean's room and Sam ran out of his father's, planting himself by the doorway of his brother's, tearfully watching as the doctor finally managed to resuscitate him after a couple of failed attempts.

"Down to the T," Logan murmured, ensuring only Stefan could hear him. A part of him was in awe of Snow's ability and the other part slightly freaked out at the accuracy of the events playing out. Meaning… _was there a reaper roaming the halls right now?_

A light swat to his abdomen snapped Logan out of his internal musing and he looked at Stefan who jutted his chin at Sam – he had ducked into John's room. "Alright," Logan huffed, tightening his grip on the syringe. "Let's do this. You keep watch in case Sam comes out too soon. I'll just be a minute." And as he stealthily snuck into Dean's room, he muttered under his breath, "I just hope neither boys remember me."

The next course of action was ridiculously easy. Logan folded up his sleeve and promptly plunged the syringe into the crook of his elbow, filling it entirely with his blood. Before he inserted the needle into Dean's though, Logan took a moment to scrutinize him. "I really hope you're not a murderer. 'Cause my goddaughter's beginning to adopt a fondness for you," and with a sigh, he inserted the needle and allowed his blood, along with its strong regenerative property, to course through Dean Winchester's veins.

He watched as the injuries Dean sustained slowly started to heal and listened to the healthy beat of his heart before he ducked out, immediately crashing into Stefan and a nurse. Grabbing her lightly by the elbow, he compelled her, "Make sure the patient remains under _strict_ observation for twenty-four hours before you discharge him." Releasing her, he allowed a charming smile to flirt across his lips, "_Oh_, and you didn't see me or my friend. Have a good night." He gestured for Stefan to go first, "Come on, let's ditch this joint before anyone…_sees us. Damn it!_" He trailed off, a profanity slipping from his lips that would've made Snow blush and demand he drop a coin in the swear-jar, for standing right in front of them, blocking their way out, was Sam Winchester and by the look on his face, he most definitely remembered Logan.

"You. I remember you. What are you-" he sucked in a sharp breath, chocolate brown doe eyes flickering from him to Dean's room.

Wearing a mask of arrogance, Logan smirked, "Sorry, kid. Think you got me mixed up with some other character. Though probably _not_ as handsome as me, eh." He winked cheekily, eliciting an eye roll from Stefan.

But Sam wasn't fooled, and while he was itching to check on his brother's condition, fearing the vampire did something to him – _no way was his appearance a coincidence_ – he wasn't about to let the opportunity slip past him, "No! I know you. You're a vampire! You were with three others; you helped fight the nest in Manning. Your name's Logan."

_Fucking hell! Can he catch a damn break._ "This is what happens when I save the life of a freaking serial killer. This must be some sign from God, teaching me a lesson," he murmured to himself, ensuring only Stefan heard, though a crease materialized between Sam's brows, alongside a few furrows on his forehead as he leaned closer in an attempt to decipher his muttering. For his part, Stefan coughed back a laugh. Clapping him on the back, Logan endeavored to steer Stefan around the kid's impressively tall stature, "Kid, like I said, you're talking nonsense. We're visiting a friend. Come on, Stefan-"

However, the moment Logan uttered the name of his fellow vampire, Sam jerked back in surprise, eyes intent on the younger Salvatore, "You're _Stefan_?" Wide eyes returned to a bemused Logan, "And you're Logan-" then, to himself, he murmured, "-and the other one, _Damon_."

"I'm sorry, have we met before?" Stefan had to ask; Sam Winchester was acting like he had met the three vampires before – and not just briefly in a vampire standoff.

At that moment, Dean's doctor rushed into his room, capturing Sam's undivided attention and giving the two vampires the perfect opportunity to vamp-speed away from the hospital. Deciding to contemplate over the details of his vision and their suspicious presence _after_ he checked on his brother, Sam darted inside, only to stagger back in unadulterated surprise at the scene playing out before him, the doctor's shocked exclamation of "_but how? It's a-, it's a miracle!_" permeating the air.

"_Dean_?" he breathed out in joyful delight.

Five minutes ago, Dean was on the brink of death and the doctor sadly disclosed praying was their best bet. Jade-green eyes alert and _alive_ stared back at him, a wan smile on his face, "Hey Sammy… how's Dad? Why're you looking at me like you've seen a ghost?"

Overjoyed, all Sam could do was laugh.

Meanwhile, invisible and standing in the doorway, Tessa the Reaper observed the exuberant reunion with detached eyes and an impassive expression. Belying her exterior however, a storm brewed within her… _'That meddling aberration!'_

* * *

Founder's Day in Mystic Falls, Virginia finally arrived, and after much toil and a _lot_ of Carol Lockwood freak-outs and last minute Caroline Forbes tantrums, the parade went off without a hitch. Decked out in a gorgeous nineteenth-century-styled dress of silver and violet hues with a raised wingtip collar, and surrounded by her friends, the addictive warmth of ecstasy blanketed Snow all throughout the day. Moreover, Logan and Stefan returned on the eve of dawn with news of Dean's '_miraculous_' recovery.

All things considered, a bright, unwavering smile had been permanently etched to her face from the moment Caroline loudly woke her up, bemoaning Logan's lack of consideration in regards to beauty sleep, followed by a fluffy pillow smacking her in the face – "_…and tell Logan 6 AM is __**not**__ an appropriate calling hour!"_ – before rolling back to her side of the bed and sinking her face into her pillow.

"Ooh, I missed my girls!" Caroline chirped, eyes alight and open-mouthed smile genuine. "It's been _too long_ since the four of us hung out, just _us_."

Upon the cessation of the Parade, the civil war costumes and the fancy dresses and suits were discarded, the teenagers transforming back into pumpkins. Immediately after, Snow, Elena and Caroline slipped into casual attire comprising of jeans, long-sleeved shirts, jackets and flats, and joined Bonnie at the Grill for a late lunch, the distinguishing features between the three daughters of the Founding Families and the teenage Bennett witch being their voluminous hair and artful makeup.

In vehement agreement with the blonde's assessment, Bonnie quickly swallowed her mouthful of bacon cheeseburger and pointedly flicked her fork at each girl, "True. 'Cause you three are always busy with your men."

The reactions to Bonnie's comment were instantaneous; a blush flooded Elena's face and she sheepishly bit into her lower lip, while Caroline donned a beatific smile, wholly unabashed. On the other hand, Snow blinked, terribly confused, "Uh, Bon, I, um, I don't _have_ a 'man'." In harmony, three snorts resounded throughout their table. Indignant, Snow sat up straight, the fry in her hand wagging at her friends, "I _don't_. If I had a guy in my life, I think _I'd_ be the first to know."

Amused, Elena snatched the fry from Snow and stuffed it into her mouth before taking a bite from her chicken parmesan burger. Mocking offense, Snow plucked another fry from her plate and flung it at Elena's face. Chuckling, Bonnie shook her head, "I didn't mean men as synonymous to _boy_friend, Snow. I don't think I've _ever_ seen you spend a day apart from Logan since he came back to town."

"That's _not true_," Snow volleyed back with a huff, her visage scrunched adorably. Dumping her peanut-chipotle beef burger onto her plate, she jabbed a thumb to her direct left at Caroline, "I _just_ spent the entire day _and _night with Caroline."

Infected by Elena's surging amusement, Caroline emitted a bark-like laughter, head shaking to and fro as though Snow shared a joke while licking off barbecue sauce from her fingers, her bout of laughter unintentionally causing her mountainous burger to disassemble. Nonjudgmental hazel-green eyes pierced Snow, "Right…Only because Logan wasn't _in town_." Bonnie struggled not to smile at the raven-haired girl's pout of realization, "Face it, if it's not Logan, it's Tyler or either Salvatore brother."

Portraying zero signs of envy or annoyance at one of her best friend's close relationship with her boyfriend, Elena let out a sound of agreement, "Uh-_huh_, just accept the fact that you've got almost every single male in this town wrapped around your finger, Snowdrop. Hell, even Mayor Lockwood with his intimidation tactics and random bursts of anger dotes the crap out of you and spoils you rotten."

Confusion escalating to epic proportions, a deep vee formed between Snow's eyebrows as she cradled her burger and took a small bite, chewing softly while mulling that certain revelation over. Taking pity on her, Caroline smiled and started attacking her coleslaw with much gusto, "Classic Snow. Fast-forward seventeen years from day zero, and you _still _don't know your self-worth."

"Apparently my self-worth attracts rapists and contract killers like chocolate does Willy Wonka," Snow snarkily pointed out, her expression glum, dropping her chin into her open palm before slurping on her vanilla milkshake, the sugary sweetness failing to lift her spirits. Thankfully, she was boxed in on all sides by her best friends and they weren't about to let her stew in misery.

Sliding her strawberry milkshake to the side, Caroline folded her arms on the edge of the table and leaned in, one corner of her lips lifting into a sly smirk as she abruptly changed the topic from doom and gloom, "Okay, I've been holding this in for so long, _somebody's_ _got to_ say it. How _hot_ is Logan Fell!?"

Snow's profoundly shocked shriek of, "_Caroline_!" intermingled with Elena and Bonnie's simultaneous intonation of "_so hot!_" their exclamation emphasized by their hands as each girl fanned their respective face. Violet eyes flickering at the guilty culprits, she screeched, "_Girls_!" Head shaking emphatically, Snow placed both hands in front of her, palms facing them, "Na-uh. No, I don't want to hear _that_. You _guys_-" she whined, wrinkling her nose, "-he's my _godfather_. Logan's like a…a second father. Don't be putting icky images in my head."

"Oh, _please_. I'm saying what we've all thought of at some point. And besides-" Caroline flicked a fry at Snow, "-before you became aware of his relation to you, _you_ found him sexy. And don't lie." She then stared heavenwards, a wistful sigh escaping her pink lips. "_But_, alas, Logan Fell _is_ like an uncle to me. If only he hadn't changed my diapers at some point in my infancy, I'd be singing a totally different tune," she concluded mournfully. "I _still_ think Jenna's bonkers for not taking him back, by the way."

As Elena and Caroline proceeded to dreamily elucidate on Logan's sexy assets, the light ambience and good humor warmed Snow and she recovered her previous ebullience. However, once the giggly remarks turned into a discussion about Logan's kindness, his amazing qualities, and of how parenthood changed him, a stab of guilt barreled into Snow. A light frown graced Snow's features once she traced the emotion back to Bonnie who had fallen oddly silent.

Once a blanket of blackness shrouded the sky and engulfed Mystic Falls in nightfall, Caroline parted ways with them and joined Matt by the bar. Similarly, Elena put on her jacket and grabbed her purse, planning to spend some time with Stefan and look for Jeremy as he finally confessed his awareness of all things that go bump in the night and was treating her with a strong air of hostility, like she were enemy number one.

Nervous all of a sudden, Snow blurted out, "_Wait_. Uh, I need to tell you something." Disregarding the concerned and bemused faces of Elena and Bonnie, she fiddled with the straw of her empty glass, eyes adamantly averted from the compassionate swirls of chocolate in front of her, "The day Isobel came… I, uh, I overheard her on the phone, and-, well…" Inhaling a deep breath, Snow exhaled and squarely met Elena's unblinking stare, "There's no easy way to say this, so I'm, I'm gonna just spit it out. John's your biological father."

"_Seriously_?!" Bonnie sucked in a sharp breath, wide eyes fixated on Elena.

Lips compressed to form a thin line of displeasure, Elena did a slight tilt of her head and kept her sharp eyes on Snow's guilt-ridden ones, "Earlier, Stefan told me Damon has suspicions that John might be. I don't-, have you been holding on to the truth _all this time_!? Why didn't you _tell_ _me_!"

"I _wanted_ to!" Snow insisted, eyes imploring. "John _knows_ I know. I confronted him that day. I thought it would be best if you heard the truth from him. But it's almost been two weeks now and I just, I couldn't keep it from you any longer. If I knew John wasn't planning on telling you, I would have in a heartbeat, Elena, _I promise_." When a long spell of uncomfortable silence ensued, Snow hesitantly inquired, "Are you mad at me?"

Evacuating her seat, Elena got to her feet, a long-drawn-out sigh emanating from her, "I'm not _mad_. Just, disappointed. I understand where you were coming from but… I thought we didn't keep secrets from each other."

And then, against her own volition, the words came tumbling out, bitter and full of snark, "You mean _other than _the secrets we've been keeping from Caroline since _October_?!" Elena and Bonnie's gasp meshed together, both girls staring at Snow in surprise. For her part, Snow automatically clapped a hand to her mouth the second the last word left her lips, head shaking in confusion and eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I didn't-, _Elena_!"

But the brunette darted out of the Grill and into the sea of townspeople, not bothering to look back, the truth of the raven-haired girl's statement cutting her deep.

Gaze lowered, Snow sniffled, "Elena hates me."

"Yeah, well… if it makes you feel any better, in a minute you're probably gonna hate me," Bonnie stated glumly, shifting in her seat. Guilt and sorrow slammed into Snow, distracting her from her little spat with Elena – while the four best friends weren't immune to inconsequential quarrels and temporary cold shoulders, it was a true rarity for Snow to be included in any of them. Just as Snow parted her lips, ready to contradict the witch's morose statement and claim that _nothing_ would make Snow hate her, Bonnie, much like she did with Elena earlier, blurted out, "I lied about deactivating the Gilbert device!"

"_What…_?"

* * *

Making it a total of _two times_ in the span of three days – _which was two times too many!_ – Logan found himself requiring Damon's annoying presence.

Pretending to be oblivious of John's plan – or rather, John, _Isobel_ and _Katherine's_, according to Snow – to round up the vampires and use the Gilbert Device to incapacitate them was easy, a piece of cake, really. And when Liz instantly voiced her disapprobation with the plan, claiming it was dangerous – "_you want to use our town as bait? It's too dangerous, it's __**insane**__!_" – Logan deftly masked his profound relief and nodded along with the Sheriff's angry exclamation. However, with Richard on board, a tiebreaker was necessary and Damon was nowhere to be seen. In fact, Logan suspected John was responsible for the elder Salvatore's absence as the council meeting had been a last minute notification by John truly, having taken the opportunity to gather their presence at the Station the moment his eyes landed on Logan, Liz and Richard loitering at the Square, discussing their respective teenagers.

_Coincidently_, Damon hadn't been with them.

"I'm with Liz." John glared daggers at him, lips curled and sapphire eyes possessing a knowing glint. At Richard's stare of disappointment, Logan lifted both hands up in the universal gesture for surrender. "Look, I'm sorry, but my kid's safety is more important than killing off a bunch of revenge-driven vampires, Rich. And it's not just Snow I'm worried about, Caroline, Tyler… _your kids_ are out there too. So is your niece-" he added, sneering at John, "-and a Square chockfull of innocent people. I'm sorry, I can't in good conscience, agree with this. A lot can go wrong."

Looking much too pleased, Liz waved a careless hand in Logan's direction, smiling gratefully at him, "This one makes sense. _Thank you_, Logan, I couldn't have expressed it better myself." Furious they went behind her back and discussed the details of their _insane_ plan with her deputies, Liz tossed each man a terrifying scowl, and as she spoke, she inwardly vowed retribution, confident that Carol and Jenna would take her side and make their lives difficult for the foreseeable future, "_I'm_ the Sheriff, it's _my _call and _I _say no."

"I second her no," Logan shrugged, his laidback posture belying his fierce countenance. He was already rooting through his jacket pocket for his phone, needing to warn Snow that the remaining tomb vampires were currently blending in as humans at the Town Square. John had absolutely _no idea_ the device was stripped of its magic and that soon, the town would become a bloodbath because of his – as Liz so eloquently put it – _insane_ plan.

A long pause ensued as John and Richard initiated a soundless staring contest, each second long and unpromising. Then, John finally spoke and Logan _knew_ ominous tides were to occur, "Richard, let me speak to the Sheriff and Logan alone."

Glaring at Richard's retreating back, Logan clenched each finger around his phone, ready to call Snow while Liz attempted to speak sense to John. It wouldn't happen. John wasn't just a stubborn Gilbert; he was a stubborn man unwilling to compromise, _period_. Especially when he believed he was right. A thick wall had the potential to be more receptive than John Gilbert.

Suddenly, a _thud_ permeated the air, tearing Logan's concentration from the screen of his phone, finger hovering over Snow's name. Shocked to the core, he stared in disbelief at John, "The _hell_, John! You just attacked the Sheriff!"

Since leaving Mystic Falls for college, they had grown apart and were no longer considered each others' best friends. Perhaps too secure in their previous friendship, Logan flashed in front of John, his expression contorted with fury, "Who the _hell_ are you?! You've changed John and—"

A pained gasp spilled from his lips and his healthy bronze complexion turned pallid.

"Sorry old friend," John stated, neither his visage nor his voice portraying a hint of remorse, and he pulled out the empty syringe from the vampire's chest. Logan's body tottered forward into John's expecting arms as he lost the battle with consciousness, the toxic effects of vervain the sole victor.

* * *

A complete and utter wreck, Snow forcefully punched the call button, and just like her previous three calls to Logan, it went straight to voicemail. Gnawing at her lower lip, the hysterical girl paced another dizzying circle into the sidewalk outside of the Grill, tears of profound terror ruthlessly streaming down her face and soaking the shoulders of her shirt as she gave Logan's phone another try.

"Snow, you need to _calm down_. I'm sure Logan's _fine_," Bonnie attempted to reassure the fair-skinned girl.

But Snow wasn't having it. "Don't _touch_ me!" she snapped, her words thick with tears as she flinched away from the witch's hand. Poking her guilty friend with a finger, Snow asked, "Why didn't you tell us _sooner_!? We could've told Logan and the Salvatores to stay away from the…" She trailed off as realization struck and, with a sharp gasp, took a large step away from Bonnie. "That's it, isn't it? You waited until I was alone, because I'm _useless_. You waited until we were separated so they couldn't be warned in time-"

Frustration and guilt warring against each other, Bonnie cut her off, "That's _not it_. Not exactly. My Grams _died_ trying to protect the town from the tomb vampires, Snow, do you _get that_? And all this-" she angrily waved her arms overhead, "-wouldn't have happened if not for Damon._ Damon_ is responsible for what happened to my Grams. I couldn't protect him. But I never meant for Logan to get hurt. I swear, Snow."

"So my godfather's collateral damage, is that it?" Snow bit back, her voice resembling a hiss and eyes narrowed. A moment later, her anger diminished, replaced by sadness and fear. She shook her head, solemn eyes fixated on Bonnie, "This isn't you. The Bonnie I know is compassionate and kind and forgiving. She isn't driven by hatred and bitterness. She wouldn't even _think_ about murder as a solution."

Guilt won and Bonnie lowered her gaze, moist hazel-green orbs burning a hole into the ground.

"Snow, sweetheart," Richard's alarmed voice reached her ears, prompting both girls to look up at the anxious Mayor of Mystic Falls. Placing an arm around Snow's shoulders, the stern quality in his features melted into concern and she could have sworn a flicker of fear entered and consecutively left his dark eyes. "You need to leave-" he then looked at Bonnie, "-both of you."

Comprehension settled heavily in her stomach; the vampire incapacitating device would soon be activated and with it, the closing of the small window of opportunity she had left to protect her godfather and the Salvatore brothers that managed to worm their way into her heart.

Head bobbing rapidly, Snow gave him a wan smile, "We will, Uncle Richard. Just as soon as I find Uncle Logan."

"Last I saw, he was with Liz and John at the Station," he offered, and with one last smile and a kiss on her forehead, Richard entered the Grill with the sole intention to order his son to depart for home before the commencement of his speech and the ensuing fireworks.

Sending his retreating back one last glance, Snow resolutely began to make her way to the Station, her phone back in hand. "Where are you going?" Bonnie ran after her, not daring to let Snow out of her sight. "Let me help you, _please_." She sounded desperate; she never intended to hurt her best friends _or_ Logan who, truth be told, was an outstanding vampire as opposed to a heartless, murderous, ravenous one like Damon.

Quite rudely, Snow snapped, "You've done enough, _thanks_."

A bubble of heavy silence encompassed the two girls. Bonnie bit her tongue when Snow called Danica and updated her on everything, and it took every bit of willpower she could muster to keep herself from snapping some kind of cutting remark when Snow relayed the elder witch's message: "_keep put and wait for me. I'm on my way._"

Around ten minutes of waiting passed, an indignant Bonnie's patience well and truly gone. However, just as she was about to face Snow and elaborate on the time they wasted, the atmosphere was suffused with a spike of magic…_familiar magic – Bennett magic!_ The warmth of her ancestor's magic caressed her, engulfing her in love and security, the power licking at her skin and coursing through her veins, lighting a fire underneath her.

Concomitantly, a scream tore through Snow, a loud and piercing scream she had emitted once before which led to Frederick's death. She screamed with hysteria, bordering on pain as an ear-splitting noise stabbed relentlessly into her eardrums, enough to gush out a streak of crimson. Her knees scraped roughly against the ground as she collapsed on them, her body beginning to drift out of consciousness and her hands pressed to her ears in a desperate endeavor to shield the tormenting caterwauling.

Bonnie's blood ran cold, eyes widening with grudging awareness, the consequences of her rage-fueled action slapping her in the face. "_No_!" she breathed out.

Two deputies ran forward, one of which had to physically haul a screaming and desperately pleading Bonnie away from Snow's unconscious form. "No! No, Snow. _Snow_!" she yelled, kicking and clawing at the deputy. "She's _not_ a vampire. _She's human_! She's _human_! Please, _no_. SNOW!"

By the time the exhausted deputy – the overweight man huffing and puffing at the amount of strength required to restrain a skinny teenager – released the hysterical witch, Snow's body was gone…

"_What did I do_?!" she choked out, a constant stream of salty tears coursing down her face.

* * *

Groggy and mildly light-headed, hazel pools blinked open, squinting at the muzzy image before him. He was enclosed in a dark space, of that he was certain. Blinking again, his enhanced vision kicked in and the remnant effect of _fucking vervain_ left his system… _God, he hated vervain_.

Back in New Orleans, during his time with the French Quarter Coven, Sophie adamantly insisted he should build a tolerance and Agnes, the foul and incredibly vile woman, gladly offered her services. One full day of uninterrupted injections of vervain corrupting his system by the vampire-hating bitch-witch was more than enough to put him off from the toxic herb. So much so, he decided to abandon the effort to become immune to the herb… he was now regretting it, _deeply_. Ugh, Danica was going to _kill_ him for his carelessness.

As though hearing voices from the end of a serpentine tunnel, familiar murmurs infiltrated his ears and he jumped to his feet, nearly stumbling back at the vertigo sensation. Biting back a groan and suppressing his thirst, Logan pulled open the door and stepped out of the cramped closet he had been stashed away in – at least John smartly kept it unlocked, knowing a locked door wouldn't hinder him for even a split-second. Entertaining thoughts of ripping John limb from limb, the scene he walked in on effectively put an end to the vivid imagery of the future torment his ex-best friend would soon be suffering through.

A frustrated Liz was handcuffed to the radiator, Carol standing over her looking panicked and terrified.

Their identical expressions at the sight of Logan exiting the tight closet were extremely comical. After a small beat of stunned silence, Carol disregarded the restrained Sheriff, forgetting about her attempt to locate the key and uncuff her, in order to pounce on Logan. Gray eyes tearful and brimming with desperation, Carol stared at him like he was her only hope, nails clawing into his forearm as she clutched it in her vice grip – _damn, she was surprisingly strong for a bony woman._

"Logan, _thank God_!" Carol sobbed, her voice strangled, and a sense of foreboding grabbed his heart, giving it a tight squeeze for good measure. "Something happened to Richard. They _took_ him."

From behind, still slumped on the cold floor, Liz piped up, "_Who_ took him?"

Not daring to release Logan from her strong grip, Carol threw the Sheriff a quick look from over her shoulder, a hint of steel replacing the desperation in her voice, "_Your deputies_. I don't understand-" she shook her head, eyes flickering from Liz to Logan, "-he's _not_ a vampire!"

Epiphany struck…_hard_. Unseeing, Logan stared straight ahead, mouth opening and closing on repeat. The second the device went off, Logan would've succumbed to its crippling effects… John never intended for him to become a victim. He drugged him, stuffed him in a cramped closet, kept him away from the action… _to protect him_.

"Well I'll be damned," he murmured to himself.

Carol's bemused voice cut through the prism of realization he unintentionally locked himself in. Shaking himself back to awareness, he focused on Carol, voice fraught with nerves, "And Snow? Did you see her?"

A range of contrasting emotions flicked across her prepossessing visage, "N-_Yes_, Richard mentioned he ran into her outside the Grill. He assured me he sent her home." Then, before Logan could emit a puff of relief, the Mayor's wife added, a pinch between her perfectly plucked eyebrows, "_But_, he did say she'd leave after finding you…"

"_Damn it, Snow_!" Logan hissed, alarming the two women with his unexpected aggressiveness. Going by Snow's track record, there was a great chance a tomb vampire managed to separate from the fray and capture her… or something similar. Quickly, he extricated his arm from Carol's death grip and shot her an earnest look, "I'll get Richard. Don't worry about it. Get Liz out of those cuffs though, yeah?"

And not sparing them a backward glance, he ran out of the office, only utilizing his augmented speed once he was out of the Station. For a brief, grateful moment, Logan felt the Fates were on _his_ side when, upon reaching the Town Square, he was confronted by Elena, Stefan, Bonnie, Danica and Alaric. _That_ blissful feeling got crushed like a bug under steel-toed boots, his blood turning to ice. "_Where's Snow_?!" he demanded.

Face mottled and marred with old and new tearstains, Bonnie hiccupped, "The device it-, it _affected her._ The deputies took her away."

His heart stopped working for a bit, he felt tightness in his throat and a leaden weight in his stomach; his entire body went numb, the universe rotating on its axis as white spots infiltrated his vision and blood rushed to his ears. Danica and Elena interlaced a hand in each of his, their warmth feeding him strength and courage. Meeting Stefan's desolate forest green eyes, comprehension hit him _again_. "They took Damon," it was a statement, the small inclination of Stefan's head merely confirming it.

"Ah, Sleeping Beau has finally awoken," John Gilbert's cocky voice permeated the air from up ahead. "No hard feelings, couldn't have you interfering."

Gratitude to John and the blooming spark of reawakened fondness for his old friend fizzled and promptly extinguished the moment Bonnie declared his goddaughter's fate and he _saw red_. Eyes on John in a burning stare, he barely listened to Elena and John's hissed dispute and went temporarily deaf at the revelation of John being Elena's biological father. Snow, his beautiful, innocent goddaughter, was all he could think of, all he could acknowledge.

Stepping in with a fury-filled guttural growl, Logan grabbed John in a chokehold, eyes narrowed, rigid, cold, hard, "The device affected Snow, John. _Tell me_, _where are they_!?"

A chill iced the flow of John's blood, mouth agape in wordless shock and eyes bright with remorse. Slowly, Logan released him, astounded by John's genuine reaction. "Grayson's office. Go," he ushered the group, expression pained. Letting them run past him, John Gilbert dragged a hand down his face and prayed for the girl who, by all means, _should not_ have fell victim to the device's magic, "_Oh God_…"

* * *

The heat was unbearable.

It wasn't the humid heat belonging to a sunny morning on an August day; not the kind that could be quenched with an ice cold glass of sweet tea, or a vanilla ice cream cone. The enveloping blast of hotness could not be likened to the sweltering heat of summer; missing were the accompanied cacophony of children squealing playfully in the background or the laughter of her friends congregated at the swimming hole right before they were shoved from behind into the depths of the lukewarm lake. It was oppressive, a wall of intense heat that slowly burned at her lungs and soaked her form in sweat, hair and clothes plastered tightly to her skin along with noxious ash and detritus.

Coughing into consciousness, eyelids flung open, allowing violet irises to frenetically recover their vision. Blinking rapidly and ignoring the ash clustered amid her eyelashes, Snow struggled to breath, staring upwards from her sprawled position. Her limited eyesight was transfixed on the copious black plumes of smoke and the blackening wood above her as it transformed to charcoal, subsequently prompting her to be deluged by heavy rains of ash and soot.

Agony, fear, desperation, hopelessness, anger, panic, horror, dread – a rainbow of severe mental and physical suffering bombarded her, burying her in psychological torment and numbing her from the physical world. Consequently, the succession of pained groans, the muted calls of her name, and the hand coming into contact with her arm was anesthetized.

Like a marionette, Snow's bones were forced into action by another, her numb body controlled through her joints into an upright sitting position. With her back propped against a hard, flat surface outside her realm of sensations in her anesthetized state, Snow's form faced forward, which resulted in the expansion of her eyesight.

Her vision became illuminated by a veil of darkness as not only the different hues of the roaring fire, but the smoke swallowed up the whole space. Unfortunately, there was no sky for the smoke to billow and so, it swarmed the windowless underground room in puffs of noxious blackness. And slowly, spurred by profound shock and terror, Snow's senses returned, one by one; thick acrid smoke assailed her nostrils and ribbons of flames licked around her, its manner threatening as it caged her inside a prison of fire.

"Am I in Hell? Or is this the Apocalypse?" she murmured to herself.

That's when her immobility struck her; hyperventilating, Snow looked down at herself, eyes widening at the cherry redness tainting her inherent ivory complexion. An olive-toned hand grabbed her attention, its richly clothed forearm hooked around her waist and she followed it to an arm and finally—

She blinked, horror inundating her, "_Uncle Richard_?"

A barrage of memories flooded her mind: the round-up of the tomb vampires … Bonnie's deception regarding the deactivation of the Gilbert Device … her frantic search for Logan … Richard informing her to leave outside the Grill … her desperate call to Danica … the ear-splitting noise hammering into her eardrums, blood trickling down her swan-like neck. Then, _absolutely nothing_. She couldn't remember anything past that tormenting noise, except falling into the void of oblivion.

Lost in her thoughts, the sudden epiphany influenced a loud gasp of comprehension, "But I'm not a vampire—"

"_You know_?" Richard's shock was almost identical to hers, brownish-blue eyes intent on her.

In response, Snow performed a short nod and swallowed thickly, ethereal eyes fixated on her honorary uncle like she was committing his face to memory, "And neither are you. Why did, why did it affect _us_-" Another gasp left her, which prompted a round of hacking coughs, cutting her off as another thought struck her and, not caring at all about preserving secrets, too fraught with anxiety and fear, she looked around wildly, "Where's Uncle Logan and-"

The body strapped to her back stiffened, Richard's stiff voice in her ear, "_Logan_? What do you _mean Logan_, Snow? He's not—"

Interrupted yet again by her gasp of realization, Snow scrambled to get out of his _surprisingly_ firm hold, violet eyes locked on the familiar form lying a few feet away from them that emitted a groan and rolled onto his belly. "_Damon_!" she shouted, frantic. The vampire weakly lifted his head, electric blue orbs sharpening at the sight of the two humans trapped amid the hungry flames and thirsty vampires. "Snow, wha-" he coughed, squinting at her as he attempted to crawl his way over, protecting the girl acting as a stimulus.

"What are you doing here?" Richard breathed out, his grip beginning to weaken around Snow.

Eyes wide, Snow tried to prevent Damon from blurting out the truth. But Damon, curiosity getting the best of him, and believing neither he nor the Mayor would survive the night, blithely confessed, "I'm a vampire. What's your excuse?" The loosening hold around her midriff tightened at the revelation, and Richard, with all the strength he could muster, started to drag himself and Snow away from the vampire, despite Snow's endeavors to pull them toward Damon. "No, really," Damon coughed and soldiered on, unaffected by the Mayor's fear. "The vervain didn't affect you, you're not a vampire. What the hell are you?"

"Damon, _en-enough_," Snow choked out, a blob of mucus trailing down the side of mouth, and with Damon's enhanced vision, he immediately took notice of the specks of blackness, prompting his concern for Snow to surge.

Unfortunately, Richard's frantic effort to create distance between them and Damon turned out to be fruitful and he bumped right into the awaiting arms of a tomb vampire. "Mayor Lockwood," he grinned deviously, sinister eyes flickering onto Snow. The sight of the Silverstone Heiress elicited a wicked smirk and she knew… the vampire would be taking them both down with him.

Desperation was a funny state of being; the loss of hope, the desire to protect, one could be impelled to do _anything_. The instant an arm hooked around Richard's neck with the intent to _kill_, Snow drove forward with a screech of negative, desperation and determination etched onto her deteriorating visage. Hand extended, Snow sunk her blunt fingernails into the offending arm and, to the astonishment of all, the hand yanked away of its own volition. Richard scrambled off the vampire just as Damon utilized his dissipating vestiges of strength to approach them, intending on dispatching the vampire before he could get to Snow.

The manifestation of a new ability rendered Damon's impending aid obsolete.

Recoiling, the tomb vampire's arm began to boil, the clothes concealing it ablaze with pure blinding flames, mouth agape with a silent scream, he pulled his head back in time for small mushroom-shaped clouds of the same blinding fire to emit from his opened mouth, and each eye socket. Aflame, the vampire incinerated from the inside out until only the blackened remains of his skeleton scattered onto the ground, the collision with the hard surface transmogrifying them to a pile of ash.

A piercing scream of alarm left Snow and, more hysterical than she had ever been, scooted back right into Damon. Eyes averted from Richard's horror-stricken stare and morbidly fixated on the palm of her mottled red hand, shortness of breath assailed her, either from the incoming anxiety attack or smoke inhalation. Petrified, the only muscle capable of movement was her tongue, "Oh-oh _my GOD_! I'm a-, I'm a m-m-_monster_. Th-that's _why _the-, the d-device _worked _on-, on m-me! I-I, I deserve to b-be h-_here_."

None too calm, Damon shook Snow out of her fear-induced panic attack. On his knees, he forcibly pivoted her around, until their eyes collided, all the while disregarding the gobsmacked Mayor. "Snow, liste-, _listen to me_!" Hands on her shoulders, he roughly shook her, forcing her into awareness, "We _need_ to get out of here, _okay_? We cannot freak out, we don't have time to freak out, the fire's gonna wipe us out-" bolstering his observation, a charcoal beam dropped, almost smashing into them. Cupping her face, eyes feverish, his softened tone didn't conceal the sense of urgency, "I'm gonna get us out, okay? Trust me."

"You're a vampire," Richard stated, recovering from the shock of watching sweet, compassionate, incapable of hurting a fly Snow Silverstone, incinerate a vampire and saving his life in the process. Turning his intimidating stare onto the Mayor, Damon snapped, "Yes, _I am_. You can flip out over my deception _later. _Right now, I'm _your_ only ticket out."

Still lacking the ability to face her honorary uncle, Snow kept her eyes fixated on Damon's chest, "Uncle Richard, _please_, you can trust Damon. I _promise_." To her relief, despite the monstrous act she inadvertently carried out and the uncertainties of her being, Richard Lockwood reluctantly voiced a murmured agreement, the witnessing of recent events incapable of making him hate Snow.

Crossing the distance to the deteriorating stairs seemed a Sisyphean effort and it was beginning to feel like the epitome of a mission impossible. Lakes of flames surrounded them, leaping and twirling in a dangerous dance as it gleefully devoured anything and everything standing in its path, like a great famished beast with a hunger that could not be sated, occasionally belching out deleterious black smoke. It was an inferno fuelled by the myriad of vampires, and the smell of burning flesh had Snow feeling faint.

Suddenly, the roaring flames diminished, creating a clear path for the trio. Reflexively, Damon stared questioningly at a bemused Snow, "Are you-"

"_No_," she interjected, a stirring of hope percolating beneath her fear.

Damon's suspicion cleared out once the door atop the stairs ripped open, Logan, Stefan and Danica standing in the doorway. The witch cut quite a striking figure, resolution on her pretty face as she stood rooted to her spot, chanting in rapid French, which explained the inferno's retreat. Ignoring the Mayor's shocked cry of his name, Logan flashed in front of Snow, throwing her into a one-armed hug, his other reaching for Richard as Stefan grabbed his older brother.

The flames licking at their feet, they made it out, Danica releasing the flames as she shut the door on the last stragglers, their dying screams pervading the air as they were devoured whole.

* * *

Irises the perfect balance of warm brown and striking green stared ahead at the picturesque-looking house.

Creating a comfortable distance from the burning building, the concerned congregation ruptured shortly after. Damon, uncomfortable at the close proximity to Richard and Bonnie, had vanished, Stefan at his heels, unable to let his brother disappear from his sights in his weakened state, especially not so soon after he almost lost him. Likewise, Bonnie tearfully left, ashamed at the part she played that almost led to Snow's death. Danica left to collect Davina from the sitter. Which left Logan and Elena; the former ignored the Mayor's flinches and contradicting expression of grief and rage whenever he so much as glanced his way, and forcibly dragged him and Snow toward his car, Elena bringing the rear.

Promptly admitted into the hospital for smoke inhalation, it was only _after_ Richard lost consciousness – as he didn't dare leave the prejudiced man's side, lest he announced his vampire status to the rest of the council – did Logan leave Elena to watch over Snow, vowing to return post-haste as he had a conversation _way overdue_, one that couldn't be postponed another day.

Which brought him to his current location, standing a few feet away from the Gilbert Residence, his flinty eyes not wavering for even a second from the front door. Just as he began to advance toward the house with plans of forcing John into revealing answers he had been selfishly hoarding, the distinctive sound of the fridge smacking shut followed by a startled, "You scared me" resonated. However, it was the subsequent alarming voice that brought him up short, pushing ice into his bloodstream.

"Sorry."

The familiar yet _unfamiliar_ voice sent a shiver down his back. Frozen by shock and curiosity, he stood immobile by the Gilbert's lawn, listening carefully. But unlike Logan, John didn't find anything amiss, probably because _he_ hadn't been the one to leave _Elena_ at the _hospital_ on Snow-duty.

"You know…I first met Isobel when I was a teenager. I fell in love with her instantly, although I'm pretty sure she never loved me. She was special. A part of why I hate the vampires so much is because of what she became, how it ruined her. And I never would have sent her to Damon had I known she wanted to turn." Sincerity rang in John's voice, reminding Logan that his ex-best friend hadn't _always_ been an arrogant asshole… perhaps Isobel's rejection, her subsequent marriage to Alaric and eventual descent into the worst parts of vampirism was what broke him. Of course, watching his _perfect_ older brother that could do no wrong and Miranda raise his daughter as their own didn't help, neither did Elena's inevitable surging hatred of him. Pity blossomed inside Logan. "It's my fault. I'm telling you this because I hoped maybe you'd understand."

A window must have been left open, for the heady scent of fresh blood assaulted him.

John's excruciating scream, followed by his choked gasp of, "_Katherine_?!" propelled Logan into motion, and he stealthily made his way into the house, ensuring he didn't draw the attention of the older vampire, her dark voice ringing horribly in his ear, "_Hello, John. Goodbye, John._"

* * *

Reclined in a leather armchair, ankle connected to knee and a short-glass of finest bourbon resting in the palm of his hand, barely held by his fingertips, blue-green eyes flicked upward, a menacing quality in them that blended with the twisting muscles on his prominent jaw. Like the quintessential villain, the second Maddox walked past the threshold, he flipped on the lamplight beside him.

Reeling in his temper, a miraculous feat to all that knew him or _of_ him, he spoke, his accented voice sharp and clear, "You're late." The witch merely bowed his head subserviently; he had been with him long enough to learn how to react in the face of his volatile temper. Humming noncommittally, the dangerous predator languidly took a sip from his drink, "I assume there's a perfectly good explanation behind your delay. After all, it does not take a fortnight to get to Mystic Falls and return now, _does it_?"

The permission to explain prompted the tensed muscles in Maddox's body to relax. Joining him in the room, he sank to one knee, eyes on his master. "No. It didn't take me more than a couple of days to complete my task. Katherine Pierce was never in that tomb, a fact a bunch of pissed off vampires that recently escaped the tomb were only _too_ _glad_ to share. As I prepared to leave, the Spirits communed with me—"

"_What_?" a hiss of profound surprise emanated from his raspberry lips and his other leg dropped to the ground. Leaning at the edge of his armchair, blue-green eyes bore into his favorite and most loyal witch, "I was under the impression they forsook you after you chose to join me."

Maddox inclined his head, "My exact reaction. I could have ignored them, but years of silence made me curious to their sudden call. I followed their directions to the town cemetery where a girl was about to be sexually assaulted. The moment I laid eyes on her, the Spirits no longer were in turmoil."

Intrigued, his lips quirked into a wicked smirk. "So… A girl managed to win over a bunch of judgmental dead witches. _Interesting. _And _she's_ what took you so long? Bored of Greta already, Maddox," he chuckled, no longer incandescent with silent rage with the thought of his quasi-friend enjoying a long weekend with some bird. After all, if the girl was important to the Spirits, to the extent they would knowingly and willingly commune with a known loyalist of his, she _must_ be powerful… and there had never been a limit to the amount of powerful individuals welcome in his rank.

"No, not like that," Maddox quickly extinguished his line of thoughts. "She's seventeen and not my type. No, it's… I have this, _this urge_ to protect her. Once overcome with that urge, the Spirits were pleased and, I don't feel restricted by them anymore."

He jumped to his feet, Maddox rising with him. Topping off his glass, blue-green eyes alight with fascination continued to examine his features, "Color me intrigued. Perhaps a short detour to Mystic Falls shall be penciled in for the foreseeable future."

A proud smirk skimmed Maddox's lips and he promptly withdrew his phone from his back pocket, "I'm sure it'll be really soon." Twin blonde brows rose, almost disappearing into the matching curls that swept his hairline. But before he could assemble an inquiring retort, Maddox held out his phone, displaying the frozen image of a gorgeous brunette, "Meet Elena Gilbert."

"A _human_ Petrova doppelgänger, _fantastic_…" a sinister expression flickered across Klaus Mikaelson's face and something in his smile looked positively wicked. _Finally!_

* * *

Informed of Dean Winchester's miraculous recovery _before_ receiving the expected summons from Papa Winchester, a pair of yellow eyes smoldered with fires of fury and hatred, anger as hot as lava coursing through him.

* * *

_**CAST:**_

**Kathy Bates **_**as**_** Betty Warner**

**Ansel Elgort **_**as**_** Jacob Warner**

**Gino Anthony Pesi **_**as**_** Maddox**

* * *

"_**Remind me again, why did Logan take Snow out of town? Founder's Day is coming, we cannot afford absences!**_**" **_**– **__**Caroline Forbes**_

"_**Something's not right, Carol. And don't say I'm overreacting or overthinking this! Logan's got absolutely no reason to take Snow out of town. Something's up. And I'm not relaxing until I find out exactly what weasel's been hiding!**_**" **_**– **__**Richard Lockwood**_

"_**I'm not stupid, Mr. Gilbert. You knew who I was when you requested the meeting. So, Damon tells me you're looking for the device I took from Johnathan. I'm sure you realize I have no intention of giving it to you.**_**" **_**– **__**Pearl**_

"_**I'm worried about Richard, Liz. He's grown this…this obsession with Logan. I don't know what to do.**_**" **_**– **__**Carol Lockwood**_

"_**Is there something you aren't telling me, Bonnie? I mean, you and Elena have been worrying about Snow. Dunno why. We're stuck in school and she's out there having fun. God, Logan's the coolest guardian ever. Sometimes I wish he was mine instead of my Mom.**_**" **_**– **__**Caroline Forbes**_

"_**Just got off the phone with Logan. He said Snow hasn't woken up yet. It's been 4 days!**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert**_

"_**They're still pissed at the founding families for trying to burn them alive. I'm cool, but those tomb boys, they want revenge.**_**" **_**– **__**Henry Wattles**_

"_**I think he's getting there. But he's got a lot of guilt that he has to deal with. And it doesn't help that you've spent the last 145 years punishing him for Katherine getting caught.**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert**_

"_**I gave your device to Damon. Why don't you ask him for it yourself? I'm sure he'd be delighted to give it to you. And then, Mr. Gilbert, may you rot in hell.**_**" **_**– **__**Pearl**_

"_**What do you think is going to happen with Violet Eyes? Think Dad'll have better luck finding her?**_**" **_**– **__**Dean Winchester**_

"_**I miss Snow. Sometimes, I can't help but feel like an outsider when it's just Elena and Bonnie. I don't think they do it on purpose… but, it sucks without Snow. She has this way about her, always makes you feel special. I called Logan, but he's adamant on giving Snow a technology-free vacation. Yay for her. Sucks for me.**_**" **_**– **__**Caroline Forbes**_

"_**The night that my parents died…I blew off family night so that I could go to some party. I ended up getting stranded, and they had to come pick me up. That's why we ended up in the car at Wickery Bridge. And that's why they died. Our actions are what set things in motion. But we have to live with that.**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert**_

"'_**Cause I didn't want you to know. 'Cause I hated you and I still do. But not because you forced me to turn. Because she turned you. It was just supposed to be me, Stefan… Just me.**_**" **_**– **__**Damon Salvatore**_

"_**Is there something going on with Logan, John? Something I should know.**_**" **_**– **__**Richard Lockwood**_

_**John Winchester:**_** "**_**If something tries to bust in?**_**" **_**Dean Winchester:**_** "**_**Shoot first, ask questions later.**_**"**

"_**Dean. You've been hiding something from the get-go. Since when does Dad bail on a hunt? Since when does he let something get away…besides those vampires and that witch. Now talk to me, man. Tell me what's going on.**_**" **_**– **__**Sam Winchester**_

"_**Fort Douglas, Wisconsin. It was our third night in this crap room and I was climbing the walls. Man, I needed to get some air. …Dad just grabbed us and booked. Dropped us off at Pastor Jim's about three hours away, but by the time he got back to Fort Douglas the shtriga had disappeared, it was just gone. It never surfaced until now. You know, Dad never spoke about it again, I didn't ask. But he…ah… he looked at me different, you know? Which was worse. Not that I blame him. He gave me an order and I didn't listen, I almost got you killed.**_**" **_**– **__**Dean Winchester**_

"_**How long has it been this time? Another two weeks, three? A month?**_**" **_**– **__**Snow Silverstone**_

"_**Screw you. You selfish bitch.**_**" **_**– **__**Alaric Saltzman (to Isobel)**_

"_**I've hit a little…snag. But not to worry, reinforcements just arrived last night. With any luck, I'll have that device in my hands by the day's end.**_**" **_**– **__**John Gilbert**_

"_**A week? Well, that's better than two, right?**_**" **_**– **__**Bonnie Bennett**_

"_**Johnny, you look as handsome as ever. And such a gentleman too, always checking up on lil' ol' me Though, I must say, I do miss the days I'd find you, Logan and Mason sitting at your regular table. I'm still holding on to hope you three kids will patch things up. Life's too short to hold a grudge. Remember that.**_**" **_**– **__**Betty Warner**_

"_**How long'll it take to get your sophisticated ass to town? We got a problem… Isobel's in town and she already made killing spree threats.**_**" **_**– **__**Damon Salvatore (on the phone with Logan)**_

"_**Hey, Jeremy. I've to ask you something. When you hung out with…with Vicki, did she ever mention Reeves to you?**_**" **_**– **__**Tyler Lockwood**_

"_**Well, well, well. The bachelor's finally returned. Where the hell have you been?**_**" **_**– **__**Richard Lockwood**_

"_**Lemme make myself crystal clear, Rich. Snow is my goddaughter, my responsibility, MY kid. If I'm gonna take Snow out of town, I sure as hell don't need your permission. And I'm not about to take parenting advice from a man that can't even treat his son right.**_**" **_**– **__**Logan Fell**_

"_**It's not nothing. You know this whole float is supposed to be about friends creating something together and everyone is fighting. Matt and Tyler hate each other, you and Elena are on the outs, Snow is AWOL and even before she was, you were giving her the coldest shoulder ever. And I don't like it! And I can't fix it if I don't know what's wrong.**_**" **_**– **__**Caroline Forbes**_

"_**We're in a partnership together because we share a mutual goal. Don't ever confuse that for an acceptance of your lifestyle.**_**" **_**– **__**John Gilbert**_

_**Elena Gilbert:**_** "**_**Who's my father?**_**" **_**Isobel Flemming:**_** "**_**Not important. He was a teenage waste of space.**_**"**

"_**Your new boyfriend over there by the pool table? Stefan Salvatore. Why Stefan? Why didn't you go for Damon? Or are you enjoying them both like Katherine did?**_**" **_**– **__**Isobel Flemming**_

"_**I looked for the woman I married but she wasn't there. Whoever that is, she's cold and detached. …Yeah, see, I don't get that. Stefan has his humanity, he's a good guy. And you're a dick and you kill people but I still see something human in you. And Logan? Guy's a freaking saint, he's the most human vampire I've encountered so far. But with her there was…nothing.**_**" **_**– **__**Alaric Saltzman**_

"_**Did you doubt me, boys? I said we'll hunt that bastard together, and I meant it.**_**" **_**– **__**John Winchester**_

"_**You can turn it off, like a button you can press. I mean, Stefan's different. He wants the whole human experience. He wants to feel every episode of How I Met Your Mother, so he shuts his feelings out. Logan, I dunno what's his deal, but he's a general pain in the ass. His love for Snow and her mother drives him I guess. The problem is, as a vampire, your instinct is not to feel. Isobel chose the easier road – no guilt, no shame, no regret. I mean, come on, if you could turn it off, wouldn't you?**_**" **_**– **__**Damon Salvatore**_

"_**So, Dad, you got anything on that girl? The demon's future victim?**_**" **_**– **__**Sam Winchester**_

"_**Now that I have your attention, listen up. You do not come into my town, threaten the people I care about. Going after Elena? Bad move. You leave her alone or I will rip you to bits because I do believe in killing the messenger. You know why? Because it sends a message. Katherine wants something from me? You tell that little bitch to come get it herself.**_**" **_**– **__**Damon Salvatore (to Isobel)**_

"_**I leave town for a week and everything's already shot to hell.**_**" **_**– **__**Logan Fell**_

"_**According to Emily, Johnathan never actually succeeded in inventing anything. Emily secretly spelled them all with magic. Compass, rings and the mystery device you told me about. … Emily pledged her loyalty to Katherine. But she couldn't stand by and watch innocent people get killed. This was the only way she could think of to help. To let Johnathan Gilbert believe that he'd actually invented these devices.**_**" **_**– **__**Bonnie Bennett**_

"_**Here's the device. I've just got a couple things I need to say before you get the hell out of town. Thank you for being such a monumental disappointment. It keeps the memory of my real mother perfectly intact. And the next time you even think about threatening or laying a hand on Snow, I don't give a damn that you're the woman who gave birth to me, I'll find a way to kill you myself!**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert**_

"_**Goodbye, Elena. As long as you have a Salvatore on each arm, you're doomed. Katherine was smart. She got out. But we all know that you're not Katherine.**_**" **_**– **__**Isobel Flemming**_

"_**Take care, Katherine. That Silverstone girl… there's more to her than meets the eye.**_**" **_**– **__**Isobel Flemming**_

"_**So… Snow Silverstone. What can you tell me about her, Mase. What's she like? I assume you're close… I mean, you gave her a cute nickname and all.**_**" **_**– **__**Katherine Pierce**_

"_**Save the Pure … save the Pure … must save the Pure …**_**" **_**– **__**The Spirits (to Maddox)**_

"_**What happened to letting us know if Joshua's bothering you again? He nearly raped you, Snow!**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert**_

"_**I'm gonna stick around till Founder's Day. Once the vampire population's wiped out, I'll catch up to you.**_**" **_**– **__**John Gilbert**_

"_**I want that son of a bitch Reeves rotting in a prison cell. Find him, Liz. Whatever it takes. I don't care. Just find him!**_**" **_**– **__**Richard Lockwood**_

"_**Does Caroline still think I'm crazy for picking Alaric over Logan?**_**" **_**– **__**Jenna Sommers**_

"_**Did you hear about the outbreak of sunflowers in the Silverstone Plot? The cemetery gardener's never been so confused.**_**" **_**– **__**Sheriff Liz Forbes**_

"_**Logan Fell is awesome! I mean don't get me wrong, I like Mr. Saltzman but… Logan's cool. Like really cool.**_**" **_**– **__**Jeremy Gilbert**_

"_**Hey, Mom. Sorry I haven't been around. Been a couple of days but… I've been terrified Joshua would corner me here again. Took Uncle Logan to chaperone me here to get me to come. I haven't said this to you yet…thank you. For picking Logan as my godfather. I didn't know what living was until he came along. Even after death, you're still taking care of me. I love you, Mom. I wish I got to know you.**_**" **_**– **__**Snow Silverstone**_

"_**I haven't spoken to John Winchester in over a year. You're wasting your time. Even if I did know where they were, I'd never tell you.**_**" **_**– **__**Pastor Jim Murphy**_

"_**You hear that? That's the sound of your friend dying. Now let's try this again. We know you have the gun John, word travels fast. So as far as we're concerned you just declared war. And this is what war looks like. It has casualties. So this is the thing. We're going to keep doing what we're doing. And your friends, anyone who has ever helped you, gave you shelter, anyone you ever loved. They'll all die unless you give us that gun.**_**" **_**– **__**Meg**_

_**Elena Gilbert:**_** "**_**I'm so sorry. I didn't see you-, hey, I know you, you're-**_**" **_**Maddox:**_** "**_**Maddox. Yes.**_**" **_**Elena Gilbert:**_** "**_**Right, you helped Snow. I'm Elena. Elena Gilbert. It's nice to meet you. I was hoping you were still around, wanted to thank you personally.**_**" **_**Maddox:**_** "**_**Trust me, the pleasure was all mine.**_**"**

"_**No Sam. I want to stop losing people we love. I want you to go to school, I want Dean to have a home. I want… I want Mary alive. It's just…I just want this to be over.**_**" **_**– **__**John Winchester**_

"_**Don't say just in case something happens to you. I don't wanna hear that freaking speech man. Nobody's dying tonight. Not us, not that family, not Violet Eyes, nobody. Except that demon. That evil son of a bitch ain't getting any older than tonight, you understand me?**_**" **_**– **__**Dean Winchester**_

"_**Bonnie, not that I'm not enjoying your company, but when are you gonna stop avoiding Elena and Snow. Look, whatever you lied about, I'm sure they'll forgive you if you just tell them about it. It's what we do. Girl code: We forgive each other 'cause we love each other, Bon.**_**" **_**– **__**Caroline Forbes**_

_**Meg:**_** "**_**You boys really screwed up this time.**_**" **_**Dean Winchester:**_** "**_**Where is he?**_**" **_**Meg:**_** "**_**You're never going to see your father again.**_**"**

_**Dean Winchester:**_** "**_**Last time we saw you, I mean, you did threaten to blast him full of buckshot. Cocked the shotgun and everything. We never did find out what you were mad about.**_**" **_**Bobby Singer:**_** "**_**And the fact that you still don't know makes me even madder at him. What can I say? John just has that effect on people.**_**"**

"_**Normal year, I hear of, say, three demonic possessions. Maybe four, tops. This year I hear of 27 so far. You get what I'm saying? More and more demons are walking among us – a lot more.**_**" **_**– **__**Bobby Singer**_

"_**Do you get the feeling that Bonnie's been going out of her way to avoid us, Lena?**_**" **_**– **__**Snow Silverstone**_

"_**For God's sakes, Richard! This has gone far enough. Next you'll tell me you installed a nanny cam at Logan's. Leave the poor man alone.**_**" **_**– **__**Carol Lockwood**_

"_**Start getting packed, Mason. I want that moonstone yesterday. It's time we pay Mystic Falls a little visit.**_**" **_**– **__**Katherine Pierce**_

"_**I swear, after everything I heard about you Winchesters, I got to tell you, I'm a little underwhelmed. First Johnny tries to pawn off a fake gun, and then he leaves the real gun with you two chuckleheads. Lackluster, men. I mean, did you really think I wouldn't find you?**_**" **_**– **__**Meg**_

"_**You just go find your Dad. And when you do, you bring him around, would you? I won't even try to shoot him this time.**_**" **_**– **__**Bobby Singer**_

"_**Killing that guy, killing Meg. I didn't hesitate, I didn't even flinch. For you or Dad, the things I'm willing to do or kill, it's just, uh… it scares me sometimes.**_**" **_**– **__**Dean Winchester**_

"_**Jenna's kinda pissed I keep sleeping over. I think she's taking it personally. But deep down, I don't think she's over you. She's just too stubborn and proud to admit it.**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert**_

"_**You know, you fight and you fight for this family, but the truth is they don't need you. Not like you need them. Sam – he's clearly John's favorite. Even when they fight, it's more concern than he's ever shown you.**_**" **_**– **__**Azazel (to Dean)**_

"_**Sammy! It's still alive. It's inside me, I can feel it. You shoot me. You shoot me! You shoot me in the heart, son! Do it now!**_**" **_**– **__**John Winchester**_

"_**I'm surprised at you, Sammy. Why didn't you kill it? I thought we saw eye-to-eye on this? Killing this demon comes first – before me, before everything.**_**" **_**– **__**John Winchester**_

"_**You can relax, Jenna. After Founder's Day, I'll be out of your hair and you can go back to life without me around.**_**" **_**– **__**John Gilbert**_

"_**Take care of the 'reaper'. Apparently one will be roaming the halls of the hospital.**_**" **_**– **__**Elena Gilbert (to Stefan)**_

"_**Your son is dying and you're worried about the Colt?**_**" **_**– **__**Sam Winchester**_

_**Sam Winchester:**_** "**_**Hey, Dad? You know, the demon, he said he had plans for me, and children like me. Do you have any idea what he meant by that?**_**" **_**John Winchester:**_** "**_**No, I don't.**_**"**

"_**Look at her, on that Float. I hate her! I wish she would just drop dead!**_**" **_**– **__**Paisley Styne**_

"_**How atrocious. I had no idea, Sheriff Forbes. If I do see Mr. Reeves, I won't let him in. Dirty boy.**_**" **_**– **__**Lucille Silverstone**_

"_**I need help with a target at Mystic Falls, Virginia. Name, Snow Silverstone.**_**" **_**– **__**Alejandro**_

"_**If the Pure burns in that building, your granddaughter will have doomed us all, Sheila.**_**" **_**– **__**The Spirits**_

"_**That aberration is going to be trouble.**_**" **_**– **__**Tessa the Reaper**_

* * *

**A/N:**** Wow! So, we're finally done with Season 1 of **_**The Vampire Diaries**_** and **_**Supernatural**_**. And excluding the quotes, it took me 56 pages and 28,880 words! I'm exhausted but I hope it was worth it, y'all! XD**

**Just a head's up, I won't be posting the next chapter until September at least! 'Cause I need to focus on updating my other stories. So I hope this long chapter will tide you over until I start on chapter 17.**

**(1) Just a couple of notes, some of you are probably surprised by Snow's mood-swings, especially her behavior around Isobel and at the foreclosure. Basically, Snow's channeling other people's emotions, she's losing control over her growing empath ability and so, for a while, she's gonna be all over the place. The foreclosure… it's very important! It'll be playing a part in Season 2, so pay extreme attention.**

**(2) I saved John Winchester. He does play a huge part in my story, but I could have easily had him die like in Canon. Honestly, it was mostly selfish of me as I hated the fact John died. Every time I bawl my eyes out. I hated the fact they brought everyone back but him. Whenever Dean and Sam died I wouldn't blink an eye as I knew they'd resurrect them, but John, Kripke never bothered. I mean, he got Mama Winchester back (who I DESPISE) and not John. Come on! Basically, all you John Winchester fans out there, enjoy his sexy-ness living on, 'cause I adore him – and I hate how they make him seem like an abusive Dad; I mean yeah, I disagree with some of his methods, but John W. is awesome! He went to Hell for Dean and didn't break in the rack, seriously? Guy needs respect! Okay, done fan-girling over Papa W.**

**(3) I introduced two new characters, Betty and Jacob Warner – basically the Warner family and the cozy little diner. Honestly, watching TVD, I realize the existence of humans is brushed off. In this story, I'm not gonna just highlight supernatural aspects of the show, but create human ones as well. Anyway, I don't have plans for them, but they will be small recurring characters, adding flavor to the story and background to the characters.**

**(4) This might appear a Bonnie-bashing story up till now, but I promise it is NOT. I have so many plans for our favorite judgmental Bennett witch; she's gonna go through a lot of growth, which is something I emphasize on in this story. I'm trying to build character and highlight on their growth and Bonnie's not gonna be all gung-ho so soon after her Grams died because of vampires. She might seem like the bad guy here, but really, it's natural what she's going through.**

**(5) SPN Universe: Something Wicked, Salvation, Devil's Trap & In My Time of Dying.**

**(6) Concluding my notes, Richard was saved! Yay! Danica and Davina are starting to feel welcomed in Mystic Falls, Logan is AWESOME, and we saw Klaus early! I adore Klaus, he is my number one favorite TVD and TO character, so I'm thrilled I got to introduce him early. And Maddox? Did anyone see that coming? I'm trying to shake things up and deviate from Canon, so I hope you enjoyed the change. Joshua Reeves? WTH. Is he gonna be a villain for long, or what? Next season we'll know. What about Tessa the Reaper, Azazel, Sam and Snow's visions… what's going on with Snow? How bitchy was Isobel? So many things happened in this chapter I don't know what to point out, so I'm gonna stop typing and say goodbye, until September (max. October!) Ciao!**

**R&R.**


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